


The Best

by say_no_more



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Dark Cedric - Freeform, M/M, Manipulative Cedric, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possessive Cedric, Protective Cedric, Slytherin!Cedric, Underage - Freeform, m/m - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-03-15 21:51:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 39,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/say_no_more/pseuds/say_no_more
Summary: Cedric demands only the best of himself, and for himself. The best marks in school, the best position on the quidditch team, and the best reputation. When it's time for him to begin dating, he won't settle for less than the best partner, as well.





	1. Chapter 1

“Your parents must be so proud of you,” his elderly neighbor, Vanhessa Greabunt, gushed at him.

 _Who cares?_ Cedric wanted to respond. Instead of saying any such thing, he smiled at the ugly old woman, returned her smelly ugly crup to her, collected the reward she had promised on the notices she had sent out to her neighbors, and returned home.

“You make it look so effortless,” Jack pouted when Cedric caught the snitch for the third time in a row as they wasted time together during their summer holiday.

 _Good_ , he thought, even as he put a consolatory hand on the other boy’s shoulder and promised to help him practice before quidditch tryouts in the fall.

“You’re such a good boy,” his mother told him, kissing his forehead when he offered to help her clean the kitchen after dinner.

 _The best_ , he silently agreed.

Cedric wasn’t surprised when upon entering Hogwarts, he was sorted into Slytherin.


	2. Chapter 2

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Cedric’s best friend, Jack, asked as they sat on the Hogwarts Express, traveling to school for their sixth year.

“My parents’ friends have started asking why I don’t have a girlfriend,” Cedric answered.

Jack’s expression became dour. “Is this one of those _I should do this because people expect it_ things?”

“Well, I should,” Cedric replied. “If I want a good partner, I can’t sit around and wait for them to fall into my lap. I need to be proactive about finding a suitable spouse before all of the good ones are taken.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” Jack sighed.

Cedric thought that these words might be Jack’s catchphrase.

“You say that all the time, and yet, it does work like that,” Cedric argued.

“For you. In most things,” Jack agreed. “Dating isn’t like quidditch or charms homework, though.”

“For you,” Cedric replied.

The door opened, and Cedric went on guard for a moment before he relaxed when their friend Elliott stepped into the compartment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Elliot immediately asked.

“Cedric’s decided that he needs to start dating,” Jack explained.

“Who, me?” Elliott incredulously asked.

“No,” Cedric immediately declared. “You don’t take your school work seriously enough, and you do poorly at planning for your future. You wouldn’t be suitable at all.”

“Thank Merlin,” Elliott sighed as he slouched into the seat across from Cedric and Jack.

“Wait, you were considering dating one of us?” Jack asked, sounding alarmed.

“Only for a moment,” Cedric replied.

Jack and Elliott shared a glance, then sighed.

* * *

Elaina McAllister had been making eyes at Cedric since they were fourth years. The Slytherin girl was pretty enough, popular enough, and she did well enough in her studies, but she had started hanging around with students who were a little too publicly interested in practicing the dark arts. With the current political state of the country, Cedric decided that he didn’t want to throw his lot in with practitioners of the dark arts before a war had even properly begun. Then, in the event that a war broke out, the light won, and they persecuted practitioners of the dark arts to the same extent they had after the last war, Cedric's marriage to someone firmly entrenched on the side of the light would grant him some protection if his study of the dark arts ever came under suspicion. Therefore, whoever he decided to take up with would need to be inclined towards either light or neutral magic.

Angelina Johnson would be alright, except that she was already hung up on one of the Weasley twins, and Cedric couldn’t respect someone with such bad taste. A crush on one of the older Weasley boys, Cedric could understand, but Percy and the twins were preposterous.

Cedric considered a number of other girls, as well. It wasn’t until Cho Chang smiled at him in the hall one day and he forced himself to smile back that he decided he should probably search for a companion among the school's male population. The gaggle of giggling girls which trailed after Cho in the wake of their brief interaction made Cedric’s head ache. He doubted he had the patience to figure out the delicate ritual which dating women entailed.

Even after making this particular decision, Cedric didn’t have much success in his search. The males in Slytherin knew better than to think him sincere. The potential Hufflepuffs were too timid for his tastes, and he found most of the Gryffindors obnoxious. Cedric managed a good snog with a Ravenclaw, but he found the younger student mouthy and overly-opinionated.

It wasn’t until the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students arrived at the school in order to compete in the Tri-Wizard tournament that Cedric thought he may have finally found a way to narrow down his options.

* * *

Fleur Delacour managed to show her disdain towards others even when she wasn’t speaking English. Cedric didn’t like how haughtily she behaved, and he especially didn’t like that she was a veela. He had noticed even a few of the professors giving her second glances during meals in the Great Hall, and Cedric wasn't fond of the idea of having to compete with others for his partner’s affection.

Viktor Krum was something else. He was tall, brooding, and the man was already well respected, well connected, famous, and rich enough that Cedric just might consider fudging his light-or-neutral-wizards-only rule. The older Bulgarian student seemed a bit too alpha male, though, and Cedric wouldn't abide being the non-dominant part in a relationship. He recognized that he possessed an old-fashioned mindset, but when he thought of a life partner for himself, he pictured someone who deferred to his judgement in most things. From his relationships with friends and family, Cedric knew that he could only tolerate the opinions of others to a certain extent, regardless of the time and energy he spent making people believe that he was good and kind and compassionate.

With a sigh, Cedric resigned himself to looking for suitable companions among the other visiting students.

Momentarily dismissing the dilemma which he had tasked himself to complete this year, Cedric considered the tournament, instead.

He would win, of course. He would bring more honor to his house than Slytherin had received in a century, and he would make the Diggory name one of note, rather than a footnote. And most importantly, he would receive the prize money.

After completing his sixth year, his father promised that he would help Cedric find a summer internship with the Ministry. With this prize money, however, Cedric would be able to take an apprentice-internship overseas. There was a master in Germany he hadn’t thought he would be able to contact or pursue until after he graduated-

“Do zey want us back in zhe hall?” Delacour asked.

Blinking, Cedric turned to watch as Harry Potter slowly walked into the chamber, his lips pursed and his eyes wide. He didn’t have time to so much as open his mouth to reply before the chamber was filled with adults, all of them talking at once.

It didn’t take long for Cedric to figure out that if Potter had cheated, no one could prove it. And if he _hadn’t_ cheated…

Potter stood to the side of the chamber, proclaiming his innocence only once and then standing quiet and stoic as people called him a liar and a cheat. He was behaving with more dignity than most of the adults in the room.

Cedric studied him speculatively.

Before last summer, he’d only ever met Potter on the quidditch pitch. He had been flying against Potter for the past two years, after Cedric made Slytherin team as seeker and then outed Flint as team captain. Potter was a superb player, out-flying Cedric even after Malfoy’s father had supplied the team with the newest broom model. Most notably, however, was the beginning of their matches, when the players shook hands. Wood, the Weasleys, and even one of the chasers gripped Cedric’s and his teammates hands so hard, Cedric suspected they were trying to break the Slytherin team’s fingers before the game could begin. Potter, however, shook hands amiably enough except for when he faced one of the Slytherin chasers, Draco Malfoy.

Potter had grown over the summer, as well. When Cedric met him at the World Cup the previous summer, Cedric had taken note that Potter was still small for his age, but the lines of his jaw had hardened, and his big green eyes no longer made him seem young and innocent, but alluring instead.

From what Cedric knew of the younger Gryffindor, he was a bit of a troublemaker but well liked by his peers (and even a few of the Slytherins, who were smart enough not to say as much when Draco Malfoy was in earshot). Potter did well enough in class, mostly considered mediocre except for the few instances in which he excelled spectacularly. Then, even if his mother was muggle-born, Potter’s father was a respectable pureblood of wealth and power.

The Gryffindor was still a bit gangly and awkward, and even though he had self confidence, he seemed unsure of himself at times. He was young enough, however, that Cedric was sure that he could properly dissuade any bad habits from taking root in the younger teen. 

The only issue was Harry Potter's status as a figurehead of the light. While Cedric didn't think it best to throw his lot in with the dark arts practitioners, he wasn't thrilled at the prospect of throwing his lot in with someone who was already embroiled in conflict, either.

Glancing around the room, his eyes briefly settling on Delacour and then Krum, Cedric wandered to himself,  _Who isn't embroiled in conflict, one way or the other?_

 _Only the best_ , he reminded himself. _Only the greatest_.

Decision made, Cedric caught up to Potter once the champions were dismissed.

“Hey,” he said, stopping Potter in the entrance hall by placing his hand on the Gryffindor's shoulder. He didn’t remove his hand as Potter turned to look up at him, his expression weary. “Alright?” Cedric asked.

“Fine,” Potter stated.

Cedric’s eyebrows rose. “Hey,” he gently admonished, minutely tightening his grip on Potter’s shoulder. “Come on. I know you didn’t ask for this.”

His gaze abruptly transitioning from wary to outright suspicious, Potter asked, “You believe me?”

“Of course. That lot back there only needed to take a good look at you to know you were telling the truth. It’s not your fault most people ignore what’s right in front of them, staring them in the face.”

Abruptly exhaling, Potter’s shoulders slumped and he suddenly seemed exhausted. “I thought I’d be able to keep out of it this year, what with the age restriction and everything. I should have known I’d be pulled into it anyways. It isn’t fair. You’re not angry, are you?”

“Of course not,” Cedric immediately answered, even though he had been angry for a bit. He’d soon determined that it was no matter, though - he would win regardless. “Why would I be angry?”

“You should be the Hogwarts Champion. You deserve it,” Potter stated.

Cedric blinked.

He was used to people praising him. Girls gushed over how handsome he was and boys were jealous of his looks. Teachers looked impressed as they assigned him points in class. The younger years thanked him for being so kind to them during their first days of school. People cheered over his flying ability when playing quidditch.

No one had ever complimented him so plainly before, however. _You deserve it_ , Potter said. Not like it was anything to be impressed about or envious of - he said it like it was a simple, irrefutable fact.

“Thanks,” Cedric finally said. “There’s not much for it, though. The teachers said the contract was binding.”

“I guess,” Potter solemnly intoned, scuffing at the floor with the toe of his shoe.

“Chin up,” Cedric demanded. “I’m sure you’ll do fine. From everything I’ve heard, you have a knack for getting yourself out of tough situations. And hey, we’re technically on the same side. Either way it plays out - if one of us wins, it’s a win for Hogwarts.”

“That’s true,” Potter said, looking a bit more cheerful.

“Let me know if you have any problems,” Cedric demanded. “I’m sure I can give you some pointers.”

“Really?” Potter asked, looking skeptical.

“Of course. We Hogwarts champions need to stick together.”

Potter watched him for a moment longer, clearly disbelieving. But then, he said, “Thanks. I - I appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Cedric replied with a grin. “We’d better get back to our common rooms. I’m sure there are celebrations waiting for us.”

“A-alright,” Potter said with a nod.

“Good night, Harry,” Cedric said, finally letting his hand drop from Potter’s shoulder.

“Night,” Potter mumbled back before turning and hurrying towards Gryffindor Tower.


	3. Chapter 3

Cedric was gracious as he accepted congratulations and well wishes from the other Hogwarts students. Smiling for them was tedious, but avoiding them was moreso.

Cedric’s ire over having three competitors in the tournament, rather than two, had worn away shortly after the Champions were announced. He was confident in his abilities and he found the other champions nonthreatening.

As for the rest of the students' opinions on the matter... Truthfully, he was rather apathetic about three of the houses referring to him as the true Hogwarts Champion, but he soon recognized an unanticipated effect of being seen as such - The rest of the school, even most of Potter’s own year mates, were beginning to alienate him, regardless of his popularity the year before or even a few weeks before.

This wasn’t an uncommon event, of course. Two years previously, people had honestly been scared of being alone with a twelve-year-old Potter. The year before that, Potter's own housemates had treated him with scorn for a period of time. This year, however, Cedric was delighted to realize that Potter was being actively harassed by most of the student body, and even his Weasley friend was hardly ever seen at his side anymore.

Thus, Cedric remained gracious and humble as the houses lent him their support, but he didn’t exactly discourage their attention, either.

It wasn’t difficult for Cedric to find Potter alone. He only had to keep an eye on Granger. Whenever Cedric saw her with Weasley, he immediately knew that Potter would be somewhere else, alone.

Just a week or two after the Champions were named, Cedric noticed Granger and Weasley leaving the dining hall together one evening after dinner. When Potter stood from the Gryffindor table shortly after, Cedric saw him turn towards the library as he left the Great Hall.

“I’m off,” Cedric told Jack and his other year mates. “I’ll see you lot in the dorms.”

His Slytherin friends waved him off, and Cedric left the Great Hall and started after Potter. He caught up to the younger student only a minute later.

“Hey,” Cedric casually greeted as he fell into step beside Potter.

“Oh! Hey, Cedric. You alright?” Potter asked in greeting.

“Sure, although with all the excitement I’ve fallen a bit behind in my schoolwork. We have an exam in Charms tomorrow that I’ve barely had time to study for, what with people constantly interrupting me while I’m working. I’m hoping to find a quiet table in the library tonight.”

After hesitating for a moment, Potter said, “I can show you my hiding place. There’s a room full of historical legal texts that no one goes near. It’s almost as good as sitting under an invisibility cloak.”

“You don’t mind sharing?” Cedric asked, but only because he knew Potter wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

“Not at all. I have a potions essay to write, and I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Thanks,” Cedric told him, treating Potter with his handsomest grin.

In the library, Cedric was surprised when Potter did, indeed, lead him to a room which Cedric had never noticed before. It was located near the back of the library with a tapestry covered entrance.

“How do you even know about this room?” Cedric asked as they settled at a small, intimate table next to a window with a pleasant view of the grounds.

“Hermione practically lived here last year when she was helping Hagrid research a legal defense for Buckbeak,” Potter explained as he pulled his supplies from his bag and spread them out over the table.

Cedric hummed, vaguely remembering gossip about a rogue hippogryph attacking a pureblood the year before and being executed for it. He found it laughable that Potter’s friend had tried to prepare a defense for the beast, but of course would never say anything to such effect.

Potter didn’t seem upset about it, anyways, so Cedric didn’t press for details.

“How have you been, then?” he asked instead as he pulled his own supplies out of his bag. “I hear that some of my housemates are giving you trouble.”

“No more than usual,” Potter replied dismissively. “It’s really Ron that’s being a prat.”

“Wesley?” Cedric asked. “I thought he was your friend.”

With a sharp exhale, Potter angrily told him, “I thought so, too. He’s angry that I didn’t tell him that I put my name in the goblet. I couldn’t let him in on a secret I didn’t know about myself though, could I?”

“He’s known you for three years and still doesn’t trust you?” Cedric pointedly pressed.

“I guess not,” Potter replied, the anger abruptly leaving him as his shoulders slumped dejectedly.

Cedric reached across the table and laid his hand on Potter’s forearm. “Try not to let him bother you,” he gently instructed. “If he doesn’t know better by now, it’s his problem, not yours. And if this Tournament has been anywhere near as disruptive to your life as it has been to mine, you can’t afford _more_ distraction. Are your classes going well?”

Releasing a long breath, Potter replied, “No. I guess not. But that’s… Honestly, it’s normal. The entire time I’ve attended Hogwarts, there’s been something going on to distract me and… I get by.”

“With the Tournament and someone putting your name in the goblet, I’m not sure that _getting by_ would be such a good thing this year,” Cedric pointed out. “How about this? We can meet here every couple of days, and I’ll help you with your homework.”

Potter’s eyes widened at the proposal, and he began to shake his head. “Thank you, I - I really appreciate the offer, but you’re just as caught up in all this as I am, and you’re behind-”

Cedric waved a dismissive hand. “I’ll be caught up in a matter of days. Besides, I’ve never had distractions from school work before, and I’ve already completed all of the lessons and assignments that the professors are assigning you this year. Glancing over your work for you won’t be a problem, really.”

“Wow,” Potter murmured. “If you’re sure, then I guess I wouldn’t mind the help. Let me know if I’m pestering you or anything though, okay? I don’t want to be a bother.”

“I’m sure you won’t,” Cedric assured.

* * *

Potter really did need a fair bit of tutoring. It turned out that over the years, his frequent adventures had proven to be horribly disruptive to his schooling, and as a result he had missed numerous lessons on basic magical principals. As he said, he got by, but mostly out of pure stubbornness, it seemed.

“You’re not using the correct wand movements,” Cedric said in awe at one point while he was reviewing charms with Harry. “That spell… shouldn’t be working at all for you.”

After Cedric showed Potter the correct wand movements and he tried the spell again, Potter let out a low whistle. “I see what you mean! That was way easier, and it didn’t take as much magic!”

Cedric absently hummed before telling Potter that he wanted to move on to potions so he could help Potter review proper ingredient preparation techniques. It seemed that Potter was terrible at potions, which was odd considering the fact that he did well enough in his other subjects.

“You’re really good at this,” Potter told him after one of their study sessions as he looked over the notes Cedric had made to one of Potter’s essays. “Hermione tries to help me with my homework, sometimes, but she usually has too much information on a subject and just ends up making my head spin. You're better at explaining things than she is. Or any of the professors, even.”

Cedric found himself preening under the genuine praise. This had begun to occur more and more often as of late. He had tutored younger student in his house before, and they often thanked him for his help and admired Cedric’s intellect. But the way Potter complimented him was something else entirely. _You’re better than my best friend and the professors_ , Cedric heard him say. _I understand that you could be somewhere else, doing something else, and I appreciate the time you’re dedicating to me_.

“You’re a good student,” Cedric found himself genuinely replying, and Potter beamed at him.

“I wish there was some way I could repay you, though,” the younger Gryffindor eventually said.

“You could treat me to lunch during the next Hogsmeade weekend,” Cedric suggested.

Potter blinked at him. “Wouldn’t you rather spend time with your friends?” he asked.

“You’re my friend,” Cedric pressed, and felt satisfaction from the color which rose to Potter’s cheeks as a result.

“Well… okay, then. Yeah. That would be fun, I think.”

“Good,” Cedric replied with a firm nod.


	4. Chapter 4

“What’s this?” Cedric asked when he and Potter met in the front hall for the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year. He ran his hands over Potter’s shoulders, touching the knit of his sweater. It was clearly hand-made. The quality of the yarn was poor, and although the pattern of the sweater was simple, Cedric eyed the seams and immediately knew that it was expertly crafted - his mother had grumbled over the difficulty of that particular stitch for weeks when she'd first started learning it. 

Regardless of how well made the sweater, it looked a bit ridiculous on Harry. It was clearly too small for him, riding up his waist to show an inch of the shirt he wore underneath, and the cuffs fell high of his wrists.

“Mrs. Weasley made it for me,” Potter chipperly informed him. “She gives us all one every year for Christmas. She usually makes them a little big,” he explained sheepishly, “but I guess I had a growth spurt or something this summer so it’s a bit small now. It was this or school robes, though, so-”

“You can get something that fits better in Hogsmeade today,” Cedric told him. _Better and warmer_ , he thought.  _Our day in Hogsmeade will be cut hours short if he wears that around and gets cold_. “Are any of your friends coming?”

Potter shook his head. “Ron’s still being a prat, and since I’m going to Hogsmeade with you, I told Hermione she could go with him. She’s tried really hard not to take sides, but, well…”

“It’s a good thing you’re spending the day with me, then, so that she doesn’t need to worry about you today,” Cedric told him as he and Harry started towards the village. “Any ideas of where you’d like to have lunch? I wouldn’t mind visiting Fredrick’s, but I’m partial to the bakery on the west side of the village, as well.”  
Potter blinked at him with wide eyes. “Er… I don’t know about those places. I mean… I didn’t have permission to go to the village last year. I snuck out of the castle to visit, once, but…”

“This will be your first time exploring the village? This day will be more fun than I thought. I’ll show you all of the best shops,” Cedric promised.

“Yeah? Okay,” Potter easily agreed.

* * *

The morning went well enough. Cedric took Potter to one of the clothing shops to get him a proper jacket, ensuring that he wouldn’t grow cold in the autumn weather while they wandered the village. As they walked through one of the neighborhoods towards Cedric’s favorite bookstore, he asked, “Why didn’t you have permission to visit the village last year? Was your permission revoked? Spencer Haversham was the last person I heard of anything like that happening to, and it was because he vandalized one of the shops…”

“What? No. Nothing like that. My aunt and uncle never gave me permission in the first place,” Potter explained as he curiously eyed the houses and yards they passed.

“Why not?” Cedric asked.

“Because they hate me,” he plainly answered, and Cedric blinked at his dismissive tone. “Why do all of the yards have those orbs in them? Do they do something?”

“They get bright whenever dangerous predators wander out of the forest. They alert the villagers and allow them to see easily if it’s night. If your aunt and uncle wouldn’t give you permission last year, why did they agree this year?” he pressed, insistently keeping with the topic.

“They didn’t,” Potter hummed. “My godfather signed the permission slip for me.”

“I didn’t know you had a godfather,” Cedric said slowly.

“Neither did I, until last year. He’s Sirius Black.”

At this information, Cedric stopped walking and took a deep breath. “The escaped criminal who killed thirteen people?” he confirmed. “He… signed your Hogsmeade permission slip for you?”

Potter grinned at Cedric’s incredulous expression. “He was wrongly accused and imprisoned,” Potter gently explained, clearly delighting in Cedric’s obvious unease. “I’ll explain it all during lunch, if you like. It’s kind of complicated, and… well, you have to promise to keep it secret.”

Beginning to walk again, Cedric said, “You have lots of secrets, don’t you?”

“I suppose,” Potter told him. “Mostly because people don’t like to hear them, though.”

“I would,” Cedric insisted. “I knew being your friend would be exciting, to say the least, but you get more complicated by the day.”

“Having second thoughts?” Potter wryly asked.

“No,” Cedric stated, throwing an arm over Potter’s shoulder. “None.”

* * *

After visiting the bookstore, they ate lunch at Fredrick’s, and Cedric watched with a smile as Potter ate traditional German food for the first time. The Gryffindor disliked half of what he tried, but was eager to get a taste of everything at least once.

As they ate, Potter explained his childhood to Cedric, told him about growing up with Muggles who greatly feared magic, hid its existence from him, and lied to him about how his parents had died. Potter claimed that receiving his Hogwarts letter was the best day of his life, until he learned that a Dark Wizard had killed his parents and had attempted to kill him, and that he hadn’t been properly destroyed by the backlash of his failed spell.

Potter then explained his first three years of Hogwarts to Cedric, admitting that there were some parts he couldn’t share with Cedric because the Headmaster had requested that Harry keep certain information to himself.

The more Cedric learned, the better he understood Potter’s easy disposition. The younger student was so used to cruelty that even the smallest kindness seemed a monumental feat of generosity to him. He was so accustomed to the adults around him treating him with little to no regard that he had been forced to care for himself and grow up far too quickly. He was so starved for affection that he eagerly anticipated every scrap of positive attention he might receive.

Cedric was mildly surprised that no one else had picked up on this and taken advantage of it before now. As they finished their meal and planned the rest of their afternoon, Cedric took deep satisfaction in the fact that he had seen the potential before anyone else, and that he had acted quickly and efficiently enough that he would be able to ensure that no one else would ever have the chance to do the same.

* * *

It was the first time that Cedric and Potter went anywhere together in public. They received quite a bit of attention, and their fellow students blatantly stared and whispered when the pair walked through the village’s main street towards Honeydukes so they could pick up some sweets.

Potter was clearly used to such attention, and Cedric had become accustomed to it over the past weeks since his name had come out of the goblet.

 _Get used to the sight,_ Cedric thought with satisfaction as heads turned towards them while they walked. _It will become common soon enough_.

Despite the attention they received, no one approached them until they were in the candy shop and they ran into Jack and Cedric’s other friends while there.

As Potter inspected a display of fruity chocolate, Cedric felt a hand on his shoulder and found himself turning to face his friend, Jack.

“What are you doing with Potter?” Jack asked quietly, his eyes flickering to the younger student at Cedric’s back.

“I’m seducing him,” Cedric quietly replied, watching as Jack’s eyes grew wide with disbelief.

“You’re _what?_ ” Jack hissed, his eyes flickering wildly from Potter to Cedric. “Why?!”

“Because I’m going to date him,” Cedric replied.

“Wha - Have you lost your mind?” Jack urgently muttered. “Is this… Is this about the Tournament or something? Are you, er...” Jack shifted uneasily at the very thought of Cedric entering into a relationship with the other Champion simply to get ahead of the competition.

“Of course not,” Cedric replied with a frown. “Don’t be daft, Jack. I wouldn’t do something like that.”

Jack let out a relieved sigh. “Okay. Good. I just… I know you, Ced, and you can get a little intense about things sometimes, and…”

With an irritated sigh, Cedric said, “Look, we’ll talk about it later, okay? Right now, you’re interrupting my date, so shove off.”

With another aggravated huff, Jack said, “We will talk about this. Extensively. Using small words and pictures if we have to, because what you’re suggesting is completely mad.”

“Later,” Cedric insisted before pointedly turning his back to Jack and moving to stand at Potter’s side. “These,” he said after a moment, pulling a box from the shelf and handing them to the younger teen. “You peel them, like oranges, but each slice is flavored with a different type of fruit.”

“Perfect,” Potter decided. “Would you like a box, as well?”

“Sure,” Cedric easily agreed.

Later, after they had finished touring Hogsmeade and returned to the castle, Potter told Cedric, “I had fun today. Thank you for inviting me. You’ve… you’ve been really kind to me.”

Smiling, Cedric told him, “You deserve it,” then leaned down and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to Potter’s temple, avoiding his messy bangs and glasses. When he pulled away, Potter was blinking at him owlishly, clearly blindsided by the show of affection.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Harry. I’ll see you in the library on Monday after classes.”

“Yeah, er… Bye, Cedric,” he replied.

* * *

After dinner, Jack and Elliott herded Cedric down to their dorm to interrogate him.

“What are you doing?” was how Jack began the conversation.

“I told you-”

“Harry Potter?” Jack cried. “Cedric, you can’t date that little cheat!”

“Yeah, mate,” Elliott put in. “Even if he wasn’t a competing champion, that kid has always been trouble.”

“I thought he was a cheat, too, at first,” Cedric revealed to his friends. “After spending time with him, though, I don’t think he put his name in the goblet.”

“What do you mean?” Elliott questioned, his brow furrowed.

“Spending time with him?” Jack incredulously asked. “How much time are we talking about?”

“I’ve been tutoring him for the past few weeks,” Cedric revealed. “I’ve gotten to know him. And today, over lunch, he told me about his childhood and his first years at Hogwarts. He’s had it rough, and… I honestly don’t believe he put his name in the goblet. I think someone else did it, hoping that he might die during the tournament.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose. “You think someone’s trying to kill him? You sound like one of those paranoid conspiracy theorists. Maybe you should start writing articles for _The Quibbler_ -”

“Jack, I’m serious,” Cedric snapped. “He’s almost been killed a dozen times since he started school. He’s fought the Dark Lord, twice. Sirius Black is his godfather, falsely accused of murder and locked away without a trial while the real culprit faked his death then lived in hiding for twelve years. He witnessed a prophecy last year. The year before that, his best friend’s little sister was possessed. The year before that, one of his professors attempted to murder him. This tournament isn’t a game anymore. It hasn’t been since Potter’s name came out of the goblet.”

“Merlin, you actually like the kid,” Jack stated, his eyes wide, and Cedric blinked at the accusation.

After a moment, Cedric shrugged. “I told you. It’s time,” he stated.

“Sure,” Elliott agreed. “But Potter? Why?”

“He’s a good person,” Cedric informed them. “And he needs someone to look out for him. He’s still young, but he’s had to take care of himself most of his life-”

“Cut the crap,” Jack demanded.

“Fine,” Cedric snapped back. “He’s a powerful, influential wizard who stands to inherit not only one, but two great names. He’s old enough that he’s not a child any longer, but he’s young enough that I can influence how he learns to interact with the rest of the world. He’s a light wizard, he’s kind, generous, attractive, wealthy, interesting, and generally tolerable as a human being. He’s the best option.”

Turning to Jack, Elliott asked, “Should we… Warn Potter, or something? It would be irresponsible not to, right?”

Cedric rolled his eyes, but Jack sighed and seriously considered their options for a moment. “No,” he finally decided. “Cedric’s never been malicious or anything.”

“You aren’t my keepers,” Cedric hotly declared.

“We kind of are,” Elliott argued. “Because… you know… no one else has figured out that something’s off about you.”

Cedric’s eyes narrowed at Elliott, and Jack sighed.

“We’re worried about you,” he reminded Cedric. “Especially if you insist on getting involved with Harry Potter.”

“When you’re competing against each other and someone’s trying to kill him,” Elliott helpfully added.

“Could we at least meet him or something?” Jack requested.

“After we’re officially going out,” Cedric conceded.

Jack frowned, but agreed.


	5. Chapter 5

Professor Snape asked Cedric to stay behind after the Slytherin prefect meeting one Sunday evening.

“Professor?” Cedric asked once the other prefects had filed out of the professor's office.

“Mr. Diggory. Have a seat,” the man instructed, gesturing for Cedric to take a seat at one of the chairs in front of his desk.

One of Cedric’s favorite things about Snape was that the man didn’t waste time with pleasantries or nonessential niceties.

“In the last staff meeting, several of the professors reported that Harry Potter’s class performance has steadily improved over the last few weeks, and Mr. Potter informed his head of house that you have been tutoring him. Is this true?”

“Yes, Professor,” Cedric responded.

His eyes narrowing, Snape asked, “Have you been helping him write his essays? Several of the professors, myself included, can find no other reason for the sudden improvement with his homework.”

Eyebrows raised, Cedric said, “As in… You think he’s copying work from me?”

Snape nodded.

“Well… I suggest resource material to him, and I proofread his essays if he’s confused about any of the subject material, but we usually work on the practical aspects of his classes. His spellwork, I mean. He’s… I suppose his schooling has been rather distracted by events in his private and personal life over the last few years, and as a result he never grasped some of the basic principles in most of his subjects.”

“Is that so?” Snape slowly drawled. “He’s never had any serious issues with his classes before.”

“Only because he’s so powerful,” Cedric replied.

“Oh?” the man asked, his chin tilting minutely in a way which made the man seem somewhat predatory.

Cedric nodded. “There’s a whole slew of spells he’s never learned the proper wand movements for. He would make the spells work by pure force of will. I’m hoping that after he’s mastered the basics, I might start working on speechless and wandless magic with him over the summer.”

Snape blinked at him for a few more moments, then heavily leaned back in his chair.

“You truly believe Potter would be capable of such magic?”

Cedric nodded. “He grew up with muggles who didn’t encourage his magic, and didn’t encourage him in anything, really, studying included. I suspect that his friend Hermione is the one who taught him how to do research and write essays, but he’s had very little one on one attention from adults or professors over the years. His true potential has been going to waste.”

“I see,” Snape hummed. “I’ll need to speak with the Headmaster - he’ll certainly want to be made aware of this. But if what you say is true, I’m glad to hear that you’ve provided Mr. Potter with some direction. Merlin knows he could do better than the know-it-all and the dunderheads who follow him around. Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Mr. Diggory. You’re free to go.”

“Of course, Professor,” Cedric said as he stood to leave.

Secretly, he wished that he could be as dour and short with people as the Potions master was. If Cedric wasn’t so determined to be considered an upstanding member of the community, he wouldn't have to waste so much of his time and energy pandering to others. 

* * *

 “Let’s go for a walk,” Cedric suggested when they were dismissed after the Weighing of the Wands. “Some fresh air might make you feel better.”

“Maybe,” Harry said, still clearly upset.

Setting an arm around Harry’s shoulders, Cedric quietly urged, “Come on. Talking about it will help.”

Outside, they set out towards the lake and sat under a tree a little ways from the water’s edge. Cedric sat close to Harry so that their shoulders and outstretched legs were pressed together. Harry didn’t seem to notice, but Cedric didn’t take offense. The younger teen’s brow was still furrowed, and it was obvious that whatever Skeeter said to him during their interview had disturbed him.

“What happened?” Cedric asked.

“She asked a lot of horrible, invasive questions about my parents, and the quill she was using to take notes… From what I saw, it wrote that I had started crying,” Harry told him. “I don’t think she cared about the tournament at all.”

Cedric once again put his arm around Harry, and the younger student released a long, aggravated breath before slouching into Cedric’s side.

“I’ll start my own newspaper,” Cedric offered. “And I’ll interview you about your interview with Rita Skeeter.” Harry gave a soft snort of laughter at this, so Cedric continued, telling him, “The paper will be called _Champion’s Muse_ , and the article will be titled Rita Skeeter: Reporter or Repugnant?”

“I’ll get Collin Creevey to stick a camera in _her_ face,” Harry chuckled.

“He’s so short, most of the picture would probably be a view up her nostrils,” Cedric agreed.

Now, Harry was laughing. “Your newspaper sounds more like a mean poster we could put up around the school. Like those stupid badges the Slytherins have started passing out, only for Rita Skeeter.”

“No,” Cedric argued. “It would be a proper publication. We could interview Fleur on how she comes across as condescending even when she’s speaking a language that none of the other champions understand, and we can interview Krum for an instructional piece on how to be menacing and brooding.”

“I’ll interview you on how to be pretty,” Harry informed him.

“You think I’m pretty?” Cedric asked, eyebrows raised. Of all the ways people had complimented his appearance, no one had ever called him _pretty_ before.

“It’s something the Weasley twins say,” Harry informed him with a teasing grin. “They call you Pretty Boy Diggory.”

“So you _don’t_ think I’m pretty,” Cedric teased.

Heat rose to Harry’s cheeks and he began to stutter. “Er - I mean. Not pretty, exactly. Not to say that you’re unattractive or anything. You’re not a troll or - That is to say-”

“I think _you’re_ pretty,” Cedric interrupted.

“I - What?!” Potter gaped. “I’m not pretty! I’m not - I’m not good looking at all!”

“Who told you that?” Cedric asked.

“Er - people make fun of my glasses, and my hair is always a mess, and I hardly have any clothes that fit properly-”

“You have lovely eyes regardless of your glasses, your messy hair makes you look like you’ve just jumped off a broom, and your ill fitting clothes have nothing to do with whether or not you’re attractive,” Cedric neatly argued.

Harry snorted. “I’ll never be handsome like you-”

“So you think I’m _handsome_ ,” Cedric confirmed.

Again, color rose to Harry’s cheeks. “I - Everyone does!”

“Well I think you’re pretty handsome, too,” Cedric announced, then leaned over to press a kiss to Harry’s cheek, just at the edge of his lips.

“O - oh,” he murmured, his eyes wide.

“Take my word for it?” Cedric pressed.

“Okay,” Harry quietly agreed, looking at his hands.

Chuckling, Cedric set his hand under Harry’s chin, tilted his face up, and properly pressed his lips to Harry’s. The younger student gave a startled gasp, but then quickly pressed into the kiss before pulling away.

“Good,” Cedric told him with a pleased grin.

* * *

By the next day, Cedric had honestly forgotten about Rita Skeeter and the Weighing of the Wands. He was far more interested in remembering the brief kisses he’d shared with Harry, first by the lake, then in the entrance hall when they parted ways for their next classes, then in the library when they met to study, and once more before they parted ways to return to their respective dorms for the evening.

During the next Hogsmeade weekend, Cedric was determined to hold Harry’s hand publicly while they strolled through the village.

Cedric didn’t forget about Rita Skeeter for long, however. It was impossible to do so with all of the fuss everyone was making about her article in  _The Daily Prophet_ the next morning.

In the beginning when their names first came out of the goblet, Cedric didn’t mind that their fellow students were harassing Harry, but Rita Skeeter was an adult - she should know better than to bully a child so publicly and so viciously.

When one of his younger housemates showed him the article and asked Cedric what he thought of it, he plainly said, “I think it’s a load of sensational trash. Harry’s talked to me about his parents and their deaths loads of times, and he’s never gotten teary-eyed or weepy. He came to terms with what happened to them long ago, and he’s strong enough to accept the things he can’t change. It isn’t Harry that’s looking for attention - it’s Rita Skeeter, and she’s taking advantage of an underage wizard to get it.”

As his housemates began to chatter excitedly at this announcement, Cedric idly commented, “If this is the kind of _quality reporting_ the Prophet is going to print, I might just withdraw my subscription with them. The Quibbler has more journalistic integrity than this rag.”

After lunch that day, Harry caught Cedric on his way to class.

“I heard that you spoke for me this morning,” Harry told him, fidgeting with the strap of his bag. “And I, well, thanks.” He suddenly lurched forward, stood up on his toes, and pressed his lips to Cedric’s chin.

Behind the pair, there was hooting and whistling as Cedric’s friends came up the stairs and spotted them.

Blushing furiously, Harry turned on his heel and ran. Cedric was grinning, though, and he gladly endured the teasing of his year mates as they made their way to class.

* * *

Cedric was pleased with his and Harry’s next outing to Hogsmeade. Harry wore one of the sweaters he bought during their last visit to the village, the one that Cedric said he liked because it was soft and brought out Harry’s eyes.

They took another stroll around the village, Harry describing sneaking into the village the year before and playing a trick on his classmate, Draco Malfoy, and other adventures he’d had while sneaking around the castle.

“You and Malfoy seem to get into tussles quite often,” Cedric noted as they started down the main street. He and Harry had been walking hand in hand long enough by now that Harry was no longer nervous as they walked or awkward when people noticed them together, and it was cool enough outside that the contact remained comfortable.

“Haven’t you ever met someone who you just… hated at first glance?” Harry asked.

Cedric hummed. “Liza Enstrung. She was in Hufflepuff, four years ahead of me.”

“What was wrong with her?” Harry asked.

“Nothing,” Cedric replied.

“Well then… why didn’t you like her?” he pressed. “Was she mean to you?”

“No. She was one of the prefects in charge of helping the first years get settled when I started at Hogwarts. She was always friendly and helpful, and she offered to assist us with our classes when we had trouble.”

“And she didn’t… cause trouble or take a bunch of points from your house or anything?” Harry asked.

“No. She was always well behaved, fair to the students in other houses, and the teachers loved her.”

“Well then… what was it you didn’t like about her?”

“I’ve no idea. I just couldn’t stand to be in the same room as her,” Cedric replied. “Why don’t you like Malfoy, then?”

“Because he’s a pretentious snob,” Harry immediately replied. “He thinks he’s so much better than everyone else just because his father’s rich and he’s a pureblood, and he looks down on other people when they aren’t exactly like him. He acts like he deserves everything in the world, even though he’s done nothing to deserve any of it. And he’s always been horrible to me and my friends. You didn’t fight or get into arguments with Liza Enstrung?” Harry asked.

“No. I pretended she didn’t exist, and she never bothered me,” Cedric replied.

Harry exhaled sharply. “I wish it were that simple with Malfoy. He goes out of his way to get me and my friends in trouble and annoy me every chance he gets.”

Harry was thinking about those badges which were spreading around the school, Cedric was sure.

“Don’t worry about him,” Cedric said after a moment. “He’s all bark and no bite.”

“He seems to bite hard enough, to me,” Harry mumbled.

“Please,” Cedric snorted. “Malfoy’s nothing more than a little coward. It’s to be expected, though - his father’s a nasty son-of-a-bitch, and even though his mother plays the demure pureblood Lady, I hear she has a pretty big personality herself. Between the two of them, they’ve got Draco browbeaten. Most of his bit is posturing because it’s expected of him and he’s terrified to have an original thought of his own. The rest of the students in his year follow along behind him because their parents are just as scared of the Malfoys as Draco is.”

Harry blinked. “I thought it was because they all want to practice the Dark Arts.”

Cedric shook his head. “Just because someone’s a Dark Wizard doesn’t mean they’re evil - Professor Snape is as mean as they come, and performing dark curses comes to him more easily than breathing. He’s not evil, though. Same with the Zabini's - Snape and Blaise come from families which have been steeped in the Dark Arts for longer than Hogwarts has been standing. They’re not evil, though. It's simply the magic which runs in their blood. Similar to how light magic runs in Potter and Weasley bloodlines. If any of your lot tried to perform Dark Magic, you’d eventually drown in it and be consumed. And while Snape and Zabini are able to perform light magic, it’s incredibly draining on their magical cores.”

“Do _you_ practice the Dark Arts?” Harry quietly asked.

“I study it,” Cedric replied. “I don’t practice, though. The Diggory’s family magic is inherently neutral, but only just. My father and his brothers’ magic is almost light. You have to be careful practicing the Dark Arts, if your magic isn’t intrinsically dark, and I figure that preforming the dark arts isn’t worth the hassle of properly honing my magic or body to perform dark magic without it making me rot. Light and gray magic work well enough for me."

“Why study it at all, then?” Harry asked.

“Just because I don’t practice it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t understand it,” Cedric replied. “Half of the boys in my dorm dabble with Dark Magic. It would be careless of me not to keep an eye on what they’re doing.”

“Oh,” Harry said quietly, chewing at his lip.

Shaking Harry’s hand which was still gripped in his to regain the younger student’s attention and distract him from his thoughts, Cedric asked, “Want to go for lunch at the Three Broomsticks? If my buddy Jack is there, we can sit with him and you can meet my friends.”

“Okay,” Harry hesitantly agreed.

Jack and Cedric’s friends were not at the Three Broomsticks, but they arrived soon after Cedric and Harry sat down with their butterbeers, and they joined the pair in ordering food.

Harry was quiet and shy, at first, staying pressed close to Cedric’s side and mostly listening to the conversation around him as several older Slytherins joined the table.

He perked up a bit more when people began to talk about Quidditch.

“It’s a pity the Durmstrang students don’t seem interested in a pickup matching,” Elliot sighed. “It would be nice to see Krum fly.”

“I read that Krum isn’t allowed to fly in public pickup games,” Maisie, one of the girls in Cedric’s year, declared. “It’s a violation of his contract with the Bulgarian team. You got to see him at the World Cup, didn’t you, Cedric?”

Cedric nodded. “He was brilliant - definitely one of the best seekers in the world. What did you think, Harry?”

“I was really disappointed that Quidditch was canceled this year - I wanted to try the Wronski Feint,” he replied. “I had a pair of omnioculars for the game, and I must have studied Krum’s flying half a hundred times over the rest of the summer in order to get an idea of how the maneuver was performed.”

“You were at the game?” Jack asked, leaning forward against the table. “You must have loved it!”

Harry shrugged. “The match was really fun, but it was ridiculous that those Death Eaters had to go and ruin the celebrations afterwards.”

Cedric’s friends around the table became uneasy, and Harry remembered who, exactly, he was sitting with, a moment too late.

“I heard there weren’t actually Death Eaters there,” Maisie announced. “The whole fuss was just a bunch of rowdy drunk people.”

His expression becoming mulish, Harry shook his head. “The Weasley tent was near the entrance to the campground. We were able to hear the men chanting, and they were setting tents on fire and tormenting the muggle family who owned the grounds. It was horrible. And then someone stole my wand and used it to cast _Morsmordre_. It was so stupid - the Ministry thought I did it, and then they tried to arrest a house elf for it!”

Incredulously, Cedric asked, “They thought _you_ cast the Dark Lord’s spell?”

Harry nodded with a bitter pout. “Whenever things go wrong, people always accuse me of being responsible for it. I didn’t even know what Death Eaters or _Morsmordre_ were before the World Cup, but I have this stupid scar on my face which apparently means that I’m some sort of omnipotent being capable of impossible feats of magic and that I’m intent on causing mayhem. So yeah. They thought I cast the Dark Lord’s spell.”

“Idiots,” Cedric quietly commiserated, putting his arm over Harry’s shoulders and pressing a light kiss to Harry’s temple.

"No kidding," Elliott put in.

“I guess,” Harry muttered. “It wouldn’t be so bad if they hadn’t canceled quidditch this year.”

“We’ll go for a round on the pitch tomorrow,” Cedric promised in an attempt to cheer Harry up.

He was surprised when the offhand offer caused Harry's mood to instantly brighten.

“Really?” he asked.

“Sure,” Cedric told him. “As long as you let me try out that Firebolt.”

“Okay,” Harry quickly agreed, smiling brightly at Cedric.

Cedric couldn’t believe it was that easy to make Harry happy. 


	6. Chapter 6

Cedric was up bright and early to meet Harry out on the pitch. As captain of a house team (even if quidditch wasn’t being played that year), Cedric had a key to the supply shed, and he had just stepped inside to hunt down a snitch when he was shoved further into the shed from behind.

Spinning to see who had accosted him, Cedric was surprised to see Harry urgently closing and locking the shed from the inside.

Cedric’s first thought was to consider how brash Harry was being. Cedric had never been particularly attracted to anyone before, but ever since he started sharing brief kisses and lingering touches with Harry, he found the Gryffindor’s face materializing in the fantasies which Cedric had once thought of performing with a hazy, faceless, formless person which didn’t look particularly like anyone at all. In the past, it wasn’t the person he got off on thinking of, but the act itself. Lately, though, Cedric found that the person he was imagining those acts with was small and distinctly male, with dark hair, slightly chapped and bitten lips, and wide bright eyes.

The prospect of wanking off with Harry in the quidditch supply shed was particularly enticing, Cedric found. He liked the idea of having an eager, adventurous boyfriend.

These thoughts had barely flickered to life before Cedric instantly banished them. Harry was far too naive and unsure of himself to be so forward - he still blushed every time Cedric smiled at him for a particularly long moment, and he accepted every one of Cedric’s kisses as if he couldn’t believe his great luck in receiving them.

Cedric’s understanding of the situation was proven correct when Harry turned to face him, biting his lip and nervously bunching the hem of his sweater in his hands, clearly distressed.

“What’s happened?” Cedric immediately asked. “Are you hurt? Have one of the Slytherins done something?”

Cedric decided that he would kill Draco Malfoy if the little twat had done anything more offensive than wear one of those ridiculous badges-

“The first task,” Harry rushed to say. “It’s dragons. After we returned from Hogsmeade I received a message from Hagrid to meet at midnight near the forest. I saw them, Cedric! There’s a dragon for each of us!”

If it had been anyone but Harry, his skin pale, dark circles under his eyes, and his teeth ruthlessly gnawing at his bottom lip, Cedric would assume the person who told him he would have to face a dragon was having him on.

“We’re not expected to kill them, are we?” Cedric asked incredulously. “Dragons are protected by law on every continent and in almost every country! And even if they go mad or rabid and have to be put down, it takes a team of highly skilled wizards. They couldn’t possibly expect for any of us to do any real harm to one!”

Harry was shaking his head. “I think we just need to get past them. Ron’s brother, Charlie, was one of the dragon’s keepers - he would never allow dragons from the Romanian reserve to be brought here if he thought anyone would injure them. And the dragons are all nesting mothers.”

Cedric quietly cursed. “Our seeker’s game is going to need to wait. I need to figure out some sort of plan - I can’t believe they were going to just put us in front of nesting dragons without any sort of warning!”

“It’s okay,” Harry told him, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Cedric in a tight hug. “You’re brilliant. You’ll come up with a plan without a problem. Hermione’s trying to help me plan something, but…”

“Meet me tomorrow,” Cedric demanded, pressing his face into Harry’s hair. “I’ll let you know if I come up with anything, and you do the same.”

Harry hugged him a little more tightly for a brief moment, nodding against his chest, and then stepped away from the embrace.

With a shaky breath, Harry said, “We should get to it.”

* * *

Cedric came up with his plan as he was walking to dinner on Sunday night.

He hadn’t found anything in the library which was helpful - most of the books on dragons were potions manuals or care of magical creatures texts, which detailed the spells and methods in which dragon handlers controlled the beasts. As Cedric suspected, there were footnotes all over the texts stating that none of the spells which were used were effective if cast by a single witch or wizard, only by an entire team.

Frustrated, he abandoned his research in order to attend dinner. As he was making his way towards the Great Hall, he passed the area where the Gobstone kids gathered to play their games.

Cedric much preferred chess. Chess took time, patience, and intelligence. Gobstones was much simpler. For how complicated the moving pieces were and how long games could last, there were only two real strategies to play - either attack or evade. Cedric was able to determine his player’s intentions within the first three moves and react accordingly.

There was more finesse to chess, though. There were a dozen different strategies one could play with, and the strategy could change at any point during the game. Cedric was especially fond of using the technique which relied on distraction-

Cedric came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the hall, and his strategy for going up against the dragon began to take shape.

* * *

 Harry wasn’t at dinner on Sunday or at breakfast the next morning. He caught up to Cedric as he was walking to Charms, however.

“Go on ahead,” Cedric ordered his friends when he saw Harry hurrying towards him down the hall.

Nodding, his housemates hurried on to their lesson.

“Anything?” he asked Harry.

Harry shook his head. “You?”

Cedric nodded. “I’m going to use transfiguration,” he declared.

Harry looked dubious. “Transfiguration? All of the books Hermione and I have gone though said that dragons are extremely resistant to magic. I don’t think transfiguring it would work.”

Cedric chuckled. “Not the dragon, Harry. I’m going to transfigure some part of my surroundings into an animal of some sort. A big, loud, fast one that will draw the dragon’s attention away from me.”

“Oh,” Harry said, blinking. With a slow smile, he said, “That’s brilliant, Cedric. I knew you’d come up with something. I never would have thought… Too bad I can’t do anything like that. I don’t know any magic as complicated as object to animal transfiguration.”

“You’ll begin to study it in your fifth year,” Cedric told him quietly. “Keep thinking. I’ll be in the library practicing tonight if you still haven’t come up with anything. I’ll try to think of-”

“Potter! Digory!”

Both teenagers jumped at Professor Moody’s loud cry.

“Shouldn’t you be getting to class, Digory?” the Defense professor asked, his magical eye swiveling from Cedric to the classroom he was supposed to be in, attending a lecture which had doubtlessly already started.

“Yes, sir,” Cedric said as he slowly turned to continue down the hall.

Behind him, he heard Moody snarl, “Potter, come with me.”

As Cedric made his way into class, he wondered what Moody was doing in the Charms corridor, three floors above his own classroom and on the opposite side of the school from the Headmaster’s office or the teacher’s lounge.

* * *

 It was just after diner and Cedric was in the room he met with Harry to study in, practicing his transformation.

“Cedric,” Harry said with a gasp when he came into the room. “That’s amazing!”

Cedric shook his head, scowling at the German shepherd sitting in the middle of the room, wagging its tail as it watched Harry come into the room. “I can’t get the coloring right,” he declared as he ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “McGonagall's only taught us small object to animal transformations so far, and anything I try to do larger than a cat comes out too dark.”

“Why does it need to be dark?” Hermione Granger asked as she followed Harry into the room.

“Dragons are colorblind, and their poor eyesight is augmented by heat sensory,” he informed her. “I’m going into that arena tomorrow wearing a bright yellow uniform, and I’ll seem like a fairy light against the terrain. Dark colored animals will blend in too well with the landscape, and a dog's body temperature is higher than a humans. A breed that's big with light coloring should help draw attention away from me.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” the girl murmured. “Have you thought of charming the dog’s fur bright after you transfigure it?”

“Yes,” Cedric sighed. “I shouldn’t have to, though. I should be able to transfigure the exact animal I need on the first attempt.”

Finally turning away from his frustrating task, Cedric held out an arm to Harry and was satisfied when the Gryffindor quickly and neatly fit himself against Cedric’s side for a quick hug.

“What about you?” Cedric quietly asked. “Any ideas?”

Harry nodded. “I talked to Moody this morning, and he suggested I play to my talents.”

“Oh?” Cedric curiously pressed.

Harry nodded. “If… if I can summon my broom from Gryffindor Tower, I think I might have a chance. I haven’t found a single spell which might work against a dragon, but we’re studying summoning spells in charms…”

Cedric slowly blinked.

He was powerful enough when it came to spellcasting, but his true talent lay in the detail of the magic. Where most of his classmates relied upon spells which required quick bursts of energy, Cedric was skilled in performing highly intricate spells and charms which required a fraction of the magical effort some spells needed but much more focus and concentration.

As Harry explained his plan - he and Hermione were going to practice a simple summoning charm, _accio_ , until he could summon a large object from a great distance - Cedric could hardly believe what he was hearing.

Cedric knew there was hardly anyone in the world who possessed the pure, raw energy which would be required to send a spell across such a great distance, successfully find its intended target, and then pull the energy and item both back. Harry talked like it would be the simplest thing in the world, with a bit of practice, and his friend was earnestly nodding along as if there was not a single doubt in her mind that Harry would be capable of such a feat.

 _Muggleborn_ , Cedric realized. _She honestly doesn’t know better_.

It was a good plan, though - far better than any Cedric had thought up for Harry. The Gryffindor was brilliant at flying, and if there was anything Cedric had learned in his time tutoring the younger teen, it was that if anyone could perform magic of the magnitude it would require to summon a broom from such a great distance, it would be Harry.

“It’s not that you’re doing the spell wrong,” Cedric told Harry after watching him attempt to cast the magic a few times. “You’re simply not concentrating hard enough. Come on, Harry, we’ve talked about this - don’t let anything else distract you. Focus on your target, make yourself want it, and then take it.”

“Half the trick to performing magic is intent,” Harry dutifully recited.

“That’s right,” Cedric told him. “You’ve done this a dozen times, Harry. Focus, want, and take. Try again.”

Harry’s next attempt was markedly better. Cedric rewarded him by hugging him from behind and pressing a quick kiss to his neck. “Good,” he told Harry. “Keep practicing. I’m going to return to my transfiguration.”

Harry nodded, gracing Cedric with another grateful smile, and then they returned to their practice.


	7. Chapter 7

“Are you okay?” Harry asked as he moved to sit at the foot of the cot Cedric was resting on.

“Ask me in a week,” Cedric said, twitching at the uncomfortable sensation of his healing skin stretching under the paste Madam Pomfrey had spread across his face.

He had been the first champion to face a dragon, but he was still shaking. He had not been prepared for the horror of facing a live, fully grown dragon which was nesting besides. Cedric had been frozen by terror for a long moment - long enough for his transfiguration to occur a few moments too late.

“Hermione says your golden retriever was perfect. Professor McGonagall was really impressed,” Harry quietly told him. “Apparently, it was the most impressive magic displayed by any of the champions.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Cedric said with a sigh as Harry took one of his hands in both of his. “Your summoning spell did as you intended, didn’t it?”

“Of course. My Firebolt did most of the work against the dragon, though,” Harry told him.

 _He has no idea how powerful he is_ , Cedric thought with a sigh.

“How are you?” Cedric asked.

Harry gave him a shaky smile which revealed just how relieved he was that the task was over. However, he shrugged and said, “I’ve seen worse.”

* * *

 “Go to the Yule Ball with me,” Cedric demanded.

“Okay,” Harry easily agreed, hardly looking away from the essay he was working on. “I might do better at dancing if I don’t have to lead, and I doubt any of the girls would agree to go with me - not after I stepped on all of their toes while McGonagall was teaching us to waltz.”

“I won’t mind if you step on my toes,” Cedric told him. “I doubt we’ll have to participate in a traditional dance for very long, at least. I hear they're getting a band to preform.”

“Thank you for your vote of confidence in my ability,” Harry dryly told him.

“You would dance wonderfully if curses were being cast at you,” Cedric replied. “You may be a bit clumsy when you walk, but you never miss a step during a fight.”

“The rest of the school would probably find me dodging curses more entertaining than a dance, as well,” Harry quietly chuckled as Cedric leaned across the table and pressed a quick kiss against Harry’s jaw as an apology for sounding insensitive a few moments before.

“Urgh,” Weasley groaned from the chair he occupied near the fireplace.

“Quiet, Ron,” Granger instantly commanded. “I think it’s nice that Harry and Cedric are getting along so well.”

“The only reason you don’t mind is because you like watching two blokes snog,” Weasley grumbled. “You wouldn’t be nearly as forgiving if it was Padma and Lavender making googly eyes and kissy faces at each other.”

“Really, Ronald,” Granger sighed. “Harry and Cedric are hardly that bad - I wouldn’t notice them at all if you weren’t making a fuss every few minutes. You should be focusing on your homework, not on Harry and his boyfriend.”

As Harry’s friends began to bicker, Cedric sighed and returned his attention to the Ancient Runes essay he was working on.

He missed the evenings when he and Harry had their private little library room to themselves. They had been able to work in quiet for hours at a time together. Now, instead of quiet and comfort, Granger was constantly jabbering about whatever _fascinating_ subject she was reading about. And Weasley mostly complained, constantly declaring that he needed a break from studying and then attempting to pull Harry into a quick game of chess.

Harry, in turn, was very attentive to his friends. He listened to Granger enthuse about her studies, and he commiserated with Weasley even though Cedric knew perfectly well that Harry held no interest in whatever subject Granger was going on about, and Harry didn’t find schoolwork boring until Weasley reminded him that they could be doing something else.

As Weasley and Granger’s argument became more heated, Cedric’s patience grew thin.

When Granger snapped at Weasley and he responded by loudly dropping his book onto the table in front of him, Cedric snapped, “If you two aren’t going to study, go and bicker in the main library. Honestly, Harry never took this long to complete an essay before you two started coming around and constantly interrupting his studies.”

“Cedric!” Harry hissed, appalled.

“It’s true,” Cedric insisted.

“That doesn’t mean you need to be rude,” Harry hotly replied.

Eyebrows raising, Cedric asked, “And they’re not being rude, yelling and throwing books while people are trying to study? My term scores in Ancient Ruins will determine the quality of the summer apprenticeship I’m eligible for at the end of the year,” he stated, motioning to the essay he was writing. “I’m not going to have a moment of time to work on the clue in the egg until the end of term exams are complete, and if those two keep on this way, I won’t have time to study for my SNAILs, either.”

“Why don’t you go study in the Slytherin dorms, then?” Weasley lowly suggested, his intonation of the word _Slytherin_ clearly relaying his opinion of Cedric, his dorm, and the house in general.

“Why don’t you go play chess in the Gryffindor dorms where there will doubtless be a dozen other students also uninterested in studying, and not in the library which was  _made_ for studying?” Cedric rejoined.

With a huff, Weasley stood and grabbed his things. “Fine,” he snapped. “I will!”

As Weasley stomped out of the room, Granger sighed. “I’ll go talk to him, Harry,” she announced. “He’s been behaving like such a _child_ this year.”

As she packed up her things and went to follow after Weasley, she grumbled to herself, clearly annoyed by the situation.

“You didn’t have to be rude,” Harry angrily muttered once his friends were gone.

“Granger’s right,” Cedric declared. “He’s acting like a little brat. He’s old enough to know better than to make a fuss while in the library, and he should go and entertain himself if he’s so insistent on not doing his work.”

“He doesn’t mean it, though,” Harry argued. “He’s been a prat for most of the year, sure. But he was well aware that his behavior was rotten, and he regretted it, and he apologized for it. But while he and I were fighting, I was off making new friends and getting a boyfriend, and he… Hermione says Ron’s afraid I’m leaving him behind or something. Plus he has difficulty differentiating between Slytherins and Salazar Slytherin himself, so… But I think he’s more upset about me dating than you being a Slytherin.”

Cedric wished that Harry _would_ leave Weasley behind.

“Look, Ron has a temper, and he can be really stubborn,” Harry said. “He doesn’t… respond well to confrontation, alright?”

“Fine,” Cedric replied.

Returning to his work, Harry muttered, “Although apparently, you have a bit of a temper, too.”

“Only when there’s reason for it,” Cedric muttered back.

* * *

Harry’s robes were well made and well fitting, but the fourth year looked incredibly awkward as he stood waiting for Cedric in the entrance hall with the other champions.

“What’s happened to your hair?” Cedric asked when he stood beside Harry.

“Hermione put something in it,” Harry informed him, his expression clearly indicating that the grooming had occurred under protest.

“Women,” Cedric said with a sigh. With a quick wave of his wand, he banished whatever product Granger had used to make Harry’s hair lie flat on his head, and in an instant Harry no longer appeared as if he had been wearing an invisible helmet of some kind. Then, Cedric took Harry’s glasses and transfigured them into small spectacles with frames which mimicked and complimented the lines of the robes he wore. Then, for good measure, Cedric mussed up the robes a bit.

“There,” Cedric said with satisfaction.

“You’ve messed it up!” Harry protested as he looked down at his slightly wrinkled robes.

“You looked like a wax figurine,” Cedric informed him. “I’ve never seen you so neat and well put together in all the time you’ve attended this school - it was unnatural. I think messed up is a very good look on you.”

Harry continued to pout for a moment, but then he sighed and leaned against Cedric’s side. “You look amazing, of course,” he informed Cedric with a pout.

Chuckling, Cedric told him, “Don’t be jealous. You look amazing, too.”

“You just said I looked like a wax figurine.”

“You _no longer_ look like a wax figurine. Now, you look like yourself,” Cedric said, and he showed his approval of this fact by tugging at a messy strand of hair at the back of his head, making Harry laugh quietly.

It was strange how Cedric always felt better when Harry was smiling. Cedric had never cared about other people’s smiles before.

When Krum appeared with Hermione as his date, she was beaming. Her smile instantly fell when she saw the state Harry was in, however.

“What did you do to your hair?!” she cried. “I spent more time on yours than I did on my own!”

“Her-Hermione!” Harry laughed as the girl began to frantically pat at his head. “Cedric fixed it - he said I looked like a wax statue, before. But wow, ‘Moine. You look great!”

Running her hands through Harry’s hair one last time before sensibly giving up - her attentions were only making his hair more wild, rather than tamed -- she stood back with a sigh. “Thanks,” she begrudgingly told her friend. “Lavender helped with my hair, and Ginny helped me find a dress last summer.”

As the two friends began to animatedly talk with each other, Cedric found himself standing with Krum and watching their antics.

“Diggory,” the older teen greeted.

“Krum,” Cedric replied, watching as Hermione pulled out her handbag and attempted to coax Harry into putting on eyeliner.

“Any luck with your egg?” the Bulgarian quietly asked.

“I haven’t even started working on it yet,” Cedric replied. “Too busy studying - I completed my SNAILs three days ago.”

The man grunted, clearly impressed. “You intend to study outside of Great Britain?”

“I’ve got my eye on a Mastery in Germany,” he replied. “What about you? Any luck with yours?”

“Yes,” Krum replied simply. “And Potter?”

Cedric shook his head. “Harry has no talent for puzzles. The answer could be staring him in the face and it would take him ages to realize what it is. I get the feeling he’d rather face another dragon and be done with it.”

Krum chuckled.

“It wasn’t a joke,” Cedric intoned. Then, “Why are you asking me about Harry’s work with the egg? Isn’t that why you’ve asked Hermione to the Yule Ball?”

Shifting his weight, Krum’s eyes once again focused on Granger, “No. Herm-y-own is strong willed and very intelligent. She seems a fine woman, and I invited her to accompany me because I admire her and she is one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen.”

Cedric was deeply relieved to have been born and raised in Great Britain, just then. If bushy eyebrows and swoty was what was considered attractive in Bulgaria, Cedric thought himself fortunate to have avoided such a fate.

Speaking of which- “Don’t put eyeliner on him, Granger. Honestly. If you drew much more attention to his eyes, they’d pop out of his head. If you insist on making him up, use a touch of mascara.”

Granger immediately began to argue, saying, “Lavender said-”

“Lavender dresses like a trollop. Did you let her do _your_ makeup?”

“Well what would you know about it?” Granger snapped.

“Far more than I would like,” Cedric dryly replied. “I was forced to act as the audience to my mother’s ample lectures on proper accessorizing and cosmetic application when I was younger. If anything other than mascara touches his face, Granger, I’ll spell you so hard you’ll look like a clown for the remainder of the ball.”

Granger gave an indignant huff, but moved to follow Cedric’s instruction.

“Aren’t you dating Potter to find out what information _he_ has?” Krum asked once their dates were once again suitably distracted.

“No,” Cedric stated. “I’m dating him because I intend to marry him.”

At Cedric’s side, Krum shifted uneasily away from him. 


	8. Chapter 8

When the Champions walked into the Great Hall, there were murmurs and whispers.

Cedric hadn’t been shy about being seen with Harry, of course. But talking in the halls and walking around Hogsmeade together wasn’t the same as officially accompanying each other to a well attended formal event.

“Focus,” Cedric quietly demanded when he felt Harry’s grip on his forearm tighten. “Ignore them - block them out. It’s just you and me, walking.”

Harry inhaled, then relaxed as he exhaled.

During dinner, Harry was seated between Cedric and Percy Weasley - one of the very worst of the Weasley children, in Cedric’s opinion. When the self-entitled prick began to blather, Cedric captured Harry’s attention by telling him, “You should look into eye restorative potions. They’re extremely complicated and very expensive, but if you won the tournament… It’s a pity that your glasses hide your eyes and Hermione's work in highlighting them.”

“You think Hermione did horribly,” Harry stated as he picked at his bread.

“Only because she didn’t know what she was doing. She had the right idea of it, but if she wants to make up someone else, she should learn to make up herself, first.”

Harry’s eyes slid to Cedric. The mascara Granger had painted his lashes with was too thick and the wrong shade, but Harry’s green eyes were as vibrant as ever.

“You weren’t kidding about listening to your mother talk about cosmetics, then?” Harry asked.

Cedric shook his head. “She wanted a girl. She had a hell of a time getting pregnant with me, though - she had five miscarriages before I was conceived. And after I was born… well, another child wasn’t an option.”

“Oh,” Harry quietly murmured, turning to stare down at his plate.

“Did she send you anything for Christmas?” Cedric pressed. “Last time she wrote, she said she intended to give you something…”

At this, Harry gave a small, pleased smile which Cedric had never seen grace his lips before. “She sent me four knitted sweaters,” he revealed. “And two pairs of mittens. And three scarves. And so many socks that I ended up giving a pair to Dobby…”

Cedric blinked. “She sent you _what_?” he asked.

“If the ball weren’t a formal event, I would have worn one of the sweaters,” Harry revealed. “Your mother spoke to Mrs. Weasley, apparently, so that they could make sure I didn’t receive the same pattern or the same colors twice. It was very thoughtful, and your mum’s letter was lovely…”

Cedric… had not prepared for this. His mother was a flighty, apathetic woman. She didn’t seem to hold any regard for anyone except for Cedric and his father, and she only treated Amos with respect out of some notion of duty. When Cedric wrote to her mentioning that he had a boyfriend, and his boyfriend appreciated homemade, knitted items… Cedric thought that his mother would send Harry a neatly knitted scarf, like the one she had gifted Cedric with just that morning, like all of the scarves she had given him over the past five years.

Instead, his mother had spoken to Molly Weasley. Amos and Arthur worked together, and their wives met from time to time, of course. But Molly and Diana Diggory were of different social standing - different worlds. Whenever the Weasley’s and the Diggory’s met, it was as neighbors - The Weasleys had the best locally produced eggs and made the best pies for community gatherings, and Diana Diggory liked to buy fresh eggs and knew where the pies should be placed because she was so fucking bored at home that she was assisting in organizing community events.

His mother had knitted enough to keep Harry clothed for a year. She had given Harry a thoughtful gift. She had sent Harry a lovely letter. Cedric hadn’t known that his mother was capable of being thoughtful or writing lovely letters.

“And did you receive my gift?” Cedric finally asked, for lack of anything to say about his mother or her gifts.

“Yes,” Harry told him with a sigh. “You gave me a book.”

At Harry’s tone, Cedric scowled. “I gave you a _good_ book,” Cedric declared. “A useful book. You didn’t like it?”

“No,” Harry muttered. “I just… you’re so much smarter than me, and so good at magic… It’s a very good book. I only… I tried to read some of it today so that I could talk with you about it, but it was… it was complicated. And all of the students are here for Christmas this year - I usually get a lot of my studying done over the holiday break, because no one ever stays in the castle. But all of my friends are here, and between Christmas and the ball everyone was so excited, and I didn’t have the time to really pay attention to what I was reading-”

Harry’s rambling meant that it took a few moments for Cedric to determine what, exactly, the younger Gryffindor was saying. Then, Cedric laughed.

“Harry - Harry! I didn’t give you homework for Christmas! Merlin, no! I certainly didn’t expect you to have the tomb memorized within a couple of hours! It’s meant for the summer. I gave it to you now rather than later because… well, because it was expensive. And I may have had to call in more than a few favors to get my hands on it. It’s the most comprehensive text in existence which details the steps for performing speechless and wandless magic. There are only a few dozen copies of this text in existence, and… I thought we could practice some of the exercises over the summer. Nothing big - You’ll probably need to read that book twenty times over before understanding the full practice and scope of speechless and wandless magic. Either way, I thought you might appreciate having it sooner rather than later so that you could familiarize yourself with some of the lessons before making any attempts. I haven’t actually read it either, Harry. There aren’t any copies in Hogwarts and… I wanted to give you something that you could use. I wanted to give you something that could help you.”

“Oh,” Harry said as he looked at Cedric with wide eyes. Then, once again looking at his plate, he said, “ _Oh_.”

“You’re upset,” Cedric realized. “Why? What’s wrong?”

His shoulders slumped and speaking to his food, Harry said, “The present I gave you seems stupid, now.”

At this, Cedric laughed. Putting an arm around Harry’s shoulders and pulling him into his side, Cedric pressed his lips to Harry’s ear and told him, “Your gift was perfect, Harry - simple, sweet, and it reminded me entirely of you.”

In order to prove his point, Cedric reached into the pocket of his robe, pulled out the slice of raspberry flavored Honeyduke chocolate which was hidden there, and popped the bit of chocolate which closely resembled an orange slice slice into his mouth.

Once Harry was laughing, Cedric pulled him into a brief, pleasant, chocolate and raspberry flavored kiss.

* * *

“Focus,” Cedric demanded. Then, the orchestra started playing, Harry set his eyes on Cedric’s, and they began to waltz.

Harry was not good at dancing. He did well enough when Cedric reminded him to keep his eyes up, however, and to ignore the people watching around them.

Their dance was in no way magical. Cedric did most of the work while Harry counted steps under his breath, ensuring that their legs didn’t tangle too often. Halfway into the musical number, Harry’s hands were sweating, and Cedric was a hair’s breadth away from pulling his wand and cursing the next bystander who muttered a mean comment. From the few hushed whispers Cedric could make out, they weren’t even talking about the dance! They were simply being vicious little gossips. Harry was too busy lifting his knees and desperately keeping his gaze focused on Cedric’s face to realize as much, however.

They managed to finish the dance upright while a dozen dancing couples came to a halt around them, so Cedric considered it a success.

As another classic instrumental piece began to sound and more couples took to the floor, Cedric took advantage of the reprise and pulled Harry off of the dance floor.

“Never again,” Harry promised in a low voice as Cedric pulled him out of the hall.

“I don’t know,” Cedric chuckled. “I thought you did well enough. Whatever lessons you received stuck with you - you tried to lead several times. But neither of us fell on our faces, and I had fun.”

“You did?” Harry asked, blinking at him.

“Of course. You and I just had our first dance. Even if there were a few hiccups… we did well together, I thought.”

Harry blushed beautifully. “You did most of the work,” he muttered to his feet.

“I did half of the work, at best. You followed.”

“Well yeah,” Harry muttered. “You actually knew what we were doing.”

 _You followed because you trusted me_ , Cedric wanted to say.

Instead, Cedric guided Harry through the enchanted Yule gardens, around the castle’s grounds, and into one of the greenhouses.

“Butterwolt,” Harry murmured in recognition, his tone reminiscent as Cedric secured the bolt behind them. “Highly magical but non-degenerative. We didn’t begin working with dangerous plants until second year. I’d forgotten that magic didn’t always…”

Cedric found a suitable bench and sat on it. “Come here,” he demanded once he was comfortable.

Harry paused before moving forward, careful and unsure as he always was in unfamiliar situations. Cedric briefly wondered if Harry was being cautious of him - Harry was a bit naive in such things, but even he must know what sneaking out of the castle and to a private, remote area during a school dance entailed.

Harry came to a stand still when their knees were an inch apart, but Cedric wouldn’t have that. Not now.

Gently but insistently gripping Harry’s hips, Cedric urged the younger student closer.

“Cedric?” Harry asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

“Relax,” Cedric replied. With insistent hands, he pulled Harry forward until the younger Gryffindor was straddling his legs and then finally sitting in his lap.

“Cedric?” Harry breathed as Cedric opened the younger student's robes and ran his hands along the silky material encasing Harry’s sides. “What are you doing?”

“I’m partaking in a time honored tradition of teenage parties in which I sneak out with my boyfriend and snog him senseless,” Cedric replied, drawing his hands to the collar of Harry’s dress shirt and pulling the neck open.

“But - but people will notice if we're gone and-”

“Not if we return after the Weird Sisters start playing. A few rounds of dancing, and everyone will be discarding their dress robes and rolling up their sleeves, and no one will miss us for a while,” Cedric informed him before dipping forward and pressing his lips to Harry’s neck. Harry jolted in surprise, but after a moment, he released a long breath and tilted his head to the side, granting Cedric better access to his bared skin.

 _It’s certainly a good start_ , Cedric thought as his lips traced the tendons in Harry’s neck.

* * *

Harry declared that if he felt like a fool while waltzing, he felt like a complete idiot when jumping and hopping around to the band which was playing when they returned to the Great Hall.

“Everyone looks as if they’ve been eating Zonko’s jumping beans,” he complained.

With a chuckle, Cedric pulled Harry to the front of the hall and stationed Harry in front of the stage in order to get a good look at the Weird Sisters, staying pressed tightly to Harry’s back. In the flickering candlelight, Cedric was proud to note that although the collar of Harry’s dress shirt covered most of the love bites he'd left on Harry’s neck, there was a bit of red peeking above the fabric from where Cedric had gently nipped at his skin.

Harry had giggled at the action, questioning if Cedric intended to become a vampire after completing his schooling. He hadn’t done anything to discourage the attention, however.

They watched the performance for a while before Jack found them.

“Not dancing?” Cedric’s friend yelled over the music. “Come join us for some poker - Maisey’s cleaning Elliott out!”

Grinning, Cedric tugged at Harry until the younger teen began to follow after him. They found themselves in a chamber just off the Great Hall, where the Weird Sisters could still be heard performing, but the noise from the party was faint enough that they could hear each other speak without having to shout.

Harry hesitated as they entered the chamber - the handful of students who were gathered there were mostly Slytherins in Cedric’s year who Harry had met before, but there were a couple of seventh years and Slytherin students from Harry’s year, as well. Harry wasn’t a Griffindor for nothing, though. He squared his shoulders, stepped into the room, and slid into the open seat next to Blaise Zabini as Cedric took the chair on his other side.

The two fourth years greeted each other curtly, addressing each other by their last names.

“Have you ever played poker before, Harry?” Maisie asked from her spot on the other side of the table.

“A bit, I guess,” he replied.

Cedric noticed the look which passed between Maisie and Jack, and he knew - they’d taken Elliott for everything he was worth, and now they planned to do the same to Harry.

A few hands later, however, Harry was laughing cheerfully as he told Daphne Greengrass, “No take-backsies! The deal was that you would partner with me in potions for a month!”

“Professor Snape always grades you horribly, though!” the fourth year girl argued.

“When I’m paired with other Gryffindors, sure,” Harry replied as he collected the rest of his winnings - Maisie watched with a frown as Harry claimed three more of her gallions, and Jack was muttering to himself as he wrote out an IOU declaring that he would be paying for Harry’s lunch next time they visited Hogsmeade. “He can’t be overly insulting of my potions if I’m working with someone in his house, though, and the other Slytherins won’t be able to sabatosh my potions!”

“I wouldn’t put it past Pansy,” Blaise muttered as he hoarded the last few sickles he had on the table.

“I thought you said you’d never played poker before,” Michael, one of the seventh years complained.

“I said I'd played a _bit_ of poker before,” Harry agreed as he sorted his winnings. “With the Weasley twins,” he declared, and the rest of the players groaned.

Cedric laughed in delight. “Harry Potter, you devious little sneak. That was positively Slytherin of you.”

“The Sorting Hat said I would have done well in Slytherin,” he idly informed the group as he counted his money. “I’m glad I wasn’t sorted there, though - people are far less suspicious of Gryffindors than they are of Slytherins. The professors only question my motives a little when I’m caught out after curfew.”

Blaise Zabini was openly gaping at Potter now, and Maisie was laughing with delight.

“That means you’re the ultimate Slytherin, Harry!” she laughed. “You’re so Slytherin that you got yourself sorted into a different house in order to hide just how Slytherin you are!”

“Oh, Merlin,” Jack said. “Cedric, if you’d done that - just imagine! If you’d gone to Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff or something - You could have taken over the world, and no one would have noticed until you'd already secured your power!”

Cedric rolled his eyes. “Ruling the world is overrated,” he declared. “Too much paperwork. I’ll leave feats of conquer to my boyfriend, who is apparently the _ultimate_ Slytherin.”

“Gods,” Zabini sighed. “We’re going to have to make Harry Potter an honorary member of our house.”

“Professor Snape is going to be pissed,” Daphne agreed.


	9. Chapter 9

When Cedric stepped into the room where he and Harry studied in the library, Cedric paused for a moment, looking at Harry. He sat hunched over his book, reading intently. One of his legs was folded under him on the chair, and he was leaning forward on his elbows - Cedric recognized the posture to mean that Harry was enjoying whatever it was he was studying - Defense Against the Dark Arts, probably.

“Hey, Harry?” Cedric called as he stepped further into the room.

Harry looked up from his reading, his green eyes shining brilliantly as he treated Cedric with a beautiful, welcoming smile.

“Promise me that you’ll never go anywhere alone with Professor Moody,” Cedric demanded.

Harry’s smiled faded and he blinked at Cedric in confusion. “What? Why?”

“I don’t like him,” Cedric responded.

Brow furrowing, Harry asked, “Is this something like that Liza Enstrong girl or whoever?”

“Enstrung,” Cedric idly corrected. “And no. You remember what we talked about during our last trip to Hogsmeade? When I told you that dark and evil are two different things?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied, trying to recall the conversation. “You said that Snape and Zabini come from dark families, but… they aren’t evil?”

“Mad Eye Moody is the evil kind of person,” Cedric declared.

Harry sputtered, “He - what? Why would you think that?”

Cedric shrugged. “I’ve always known - I mean, it’s something that I can just tell about people. Like with Snape and Zabini - It’s how I know that Lucius Malfoy should be in Azkaban, but Draco’s not really a bad person. I knew Pansy Parkinson was evil the second I set eyes on her, and sure enough Snape called for her expulsion last year after she was caught tormenting several first years-”

“I hadn’t heard-”

“It was an inner-house issue,” Cedric said with a shake of his head. “Her parents called in a ton of favors with the Board of Governors and Snape has her on probation for the rest of her time at Hogwarts - And it’s not important. Harry, I don’t want you to ever be alone with Professor Moody. Tell your friends - if he keeps you after class, they should stick around and wait for you. If he finds some reason to pull you aside or send your friends away, make sure they know to go get another professor. Just don’t… Don’t let him get you alone.”

“Cedric, where is this coming from? If you knew he was… evil, or whatever, from the beginning of the year, why are you only telling me this now?”

“Because he just gave me hint about the egg,” Cedric replied.

“And that’s bad because…?”

“Because he’s shady as hell. First he starts following you around the castle-”

“He hasn’t-”

“He was following you that day before the First Task, Harry, the day he took you aside and gave you an idea of how to combat the dragon. He had no business being in the Charms corridor that day. And then he hands you the information you need to complete the task without any provocation? I mean, why would he do that? How did he even know what the first task would be, when Hagrid was the only professor in the entire school who knew about it? And I’ve been watching him, Harry. That magical eye of his is on you half of the time when we’re in the Great Hall for meals. It swivels around so much that it’s hard to notice, but he’s watching you.”

“But he gave _you_ the hint this time-”

“I think it’s pretty obvious to everyone that we’re dating. Seriously dating. Not as some sort of ploy to get along in the Tournament, but together. Of course he knows that I would pass on the hint to you. But like I said, he is a bad person. Why is he so focused on you? Why does he want for you to do well in the Tournament?”

“You think he put my name in the goblet,” Harry realized.

Cedric nodded. “I don’t know why, or to what ends, but yes. I think he did.”

Biting his lip, Harry told him, “Dumbledore wouldn’t believe me… He trusts Moody…”

“That’s why I told you to tell your friends,” Cedric pressed.

“I think we get the point,” Hermione Granger announced.

Blinking, Harry and Cedric turned to watch Granger and Weasley as they pushed aside the tapestry covering the entrance and stepped into the room.

“Honestly, Cedric,” Granger sighed as she cast several spells on tapestry covered entrance. “You can’t go around making accusations and announcements like that without putting up privacy charms first. Don’t you know anything about subterfuge?”

Cedric sighed, running an agitated hand through his hair. “It’s not a mistake I’ll make again,” he muttered. Honestly - getting dressed down by a fourth year, and for good reason. How humiliating.

“You really think it’s Moody who has it in for Harry?” Weasley asked, his eyes wide. “I thought… We thought it might be Karkaroff. On the night of the Yule Ball, I heard him and Snape talking…”

Cedric shook his head. “Karkaroff wouldn’t have the spine. He’s nothing but a coward. It’s Moody. I’m sure of it.”

“Because you can _just tell_ ,” Granger agreed, her eyes narrowed. “How?”

“Hermione-” Harry sighed.

“Be quiet, Harry,” she snapped, at the same moment that Weasley loudly said, “Let her talk!”

Cedric’s eyebrows rose.

“How can you tell if people are truly evil or not?” Granger pressed.

“Hermione!” Harry tried again.

After releasing a long sigh, Cedric declared, “Because I’m like that."

“Like what?” she pressed.

“I have the ability to turn off my emotions and stop caring so that I can do whatever’s necessary to get what I want,” Cedric replied.

“Ha!” Granger victoriously cried, turning to Harry. “Harry, we told you there was something wrong with him-”

“I already knew!” Harry loudly snapped.

Granger and Weasley chorused, “ _What?_ ” right along with Cedric.

Glancing between Cedric and his friends, Harry exhaled sharply and said, “Cedric… Reminds me a bit of Tom Riddle. The version of him I met in the diary a couple of years ago.”

“You’re dating someone who reminds you of Voldemort?!” Granger cried.

“What?!” Cedric dumbly repeated.

“Only at first!” Harry desperately replied. “Cedric, it was the way you smiled - how it didn’t reach your eyes. I thought you were spending time with me and being nice to me as some sort of ploy at winning the tournament. But then you started smiling at me and meaning it, and I talked to your friends, and they said that you had always been that way, but you had never crossed any lines and didn’t seem intent on doing so, so I figured you actually _did_ like me-”

“Of course I like you, you little shit!” Cedric snarled. “You talked to Jack and Elliott?! _They_ talked to _you_?!”

“Only a little!” Harry cried. “And they said they would have said something to me if you’d, you know, coerced me into a relationship before I understood what I was getting into. And hey! Your friends like me! Jack said he wouldn’t trust you with someone who couldn’t understand and handle you, so…”

“Why didn’t you tell _us_?” Ron gaped.

“You were already so upset that I was dating a Slytherin,” Harry replied, “I didn’t think you’d like hearing that I was dating _the_ Slytherin.”

Granger gave a great, heaving sigh. “We can’t be too upset,” she announced.

“The hell we can’t!” Wesley cried.

“Ronald, hush - Cedric’s more than proven that he’s on Harry’s side. He figured out who put Harry’s name in the cup! He warned Harry, encouraged Harry to warn us-”

“He hasn’t figured out how we can fix it,” Weasley muttered.

“There _is_ no fixing it,” Cedric snapped. “The Tournament rules state that Harry is magically bound to compete. There’s no getting out of that.”

“Well what about getting Moody out of the castle?” Ron retorted.

“We’ve already established that Moody is here because Dumbledore trusts him,” Granger pointed out. “Unless we have hard evidence, which we don’t, Dumbledore won’t listen to us.”

Dumbledore wouldn’t listen to them, but Snape would listen to Cedric, he was sure.

* * *

“Professor Moody?” Snape asked doubtfully.

Cedric nodded. “I can tell.”

“The same way you could tell that Parkinson would be trouble?” the man confirmed.

Cedric nodded.

Professor Snape gave an agitated sigh, pressing his fingers into the bridge of his nose. “I told the Headmaster not to hire that madman.” When Snape dropped his hand, Cedric was surprised when Snape leveled a narrow-eyed gaze on Cedric which the man usually reserved for the most troublesome and suspect of students.

“What, exactly, are you doing with Potter, Mr. Diggory?” the man asked.

Eyebrows raising, Cedric said, “I’m dating him.”

“Why?” Snape pressed.

“I wasn’t aware that you were in the habit of questioning your student’s personal lives,” Cedric replied.

“Students, no. Slytherin students who start sniffing around Harry Potter, yes,” the Professor responded.

 _He smells like wind and warmth_ , Cedric wanted to tell the man. _He tastes even better_.

Cedric didn’t speak, but his expression must have given his thoughts away because Snape audibly cursed. “Listen here, Diggory. I don’t care if you’re after that boy just to get your jollies off, to prove something, or because one of your mates dared you to-”

“I’m not!” Cedric snapped.

“Then why?” Snape once again demanded.

“Probably for the same reason that you’re acting so bloody overprotective of him - Harry Potter is the best. And he’s mine. And there is nothing that you, or Dumbledore, or Granger or Weasley or my father or the fucking _Dark Lord_ can do to change that. And if I have to figure out how to expose Moody myself, I damn well will-”

“Quiet!” Snape roared, once again rubbing at the bridge of his nose. “For Merlin’s sake, shut up. I’ll help with Moody - of course I will. But see here, Diggory. If you put one toe out of line, if you do anything to endanger Potter, if you do anything to hurt him-”

“You’d have to get in line if you wish for retribution,” Cedric sourly replied. “You’d probably have to stand behind my mother.”

“Your mother,” Snape intoned. “Is she the one who knitted Potter a Slytherin green sweater with a silver pattern worked in?”

“I don’t know,” Cedric replied. “I haven’t actually seen Harry wear any of the sweaters my mother made for him. She did that?”

“Apparently,” the man sighed. “I had to listen to Draco Malfoy whine for half an hour about how Potter was tromping around the grounds over the holidays wearing Slytherin colors.”

Cedric rolled his eyes, grumbling, “I’m growing weary of listening to people complain about Draco Malfoy in relation to my boyfriend.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Are you finished with your homework?” Cedric asked when he saw that Harry was reading the tomb Cedric had given him for Christmas.

“Yeah,” Harry told him, blinking as he looked up from the text. “I think… I think I’m caught up on my work. I didn’t have any problems with the practical lessons in class this week, and I’ve finished the essays I’ve been assigned.”

“Then tonight, let’s work on the clue for our eggs,” Cedric suggested.

Harry immediately came to attention. “You have an idea?” he asked. “I’ve been opening the egg every night, but I still haven’t figured out what the clue could mean-”

“Moody made a suggestion,” Cedric reminded him. “He told me to take the egg and have a bath.”

Harry stared at him, then blanched. “Alright,” he said. “I think I understand why you don’t like Moody, now.”

Cedric rolled his eyes. There were plenty of reasons to dislike Moody, but a definitive hint on how to solve the egg wasn’t one of them.

“The key to unlocking the clue is water, Harry,” Cedric told him. “For all of Moody’s faults, I don’t think that perversion is one of them.”

“Oh,” Harry said quietly. “We don’t have baths in Gryffindor. There are only showers-”

“I thought we could work on the clue together in the Prefect’s bath,” Cedric declared. “It’s private and far more comfortable than the dorm showers. Meet me there tonight, at midnight. The password is Pine Fresh.”

As the library closed for the evening, Cedric gave Harry the directions to the Prefects bathroom, and then they parted ways.

With a grin, Cedric thought, _We’ll pretend to work on the egg’s clue, at least_. 

* * *

Harry was so enraptured by the various taps in the Prefect’s bath that the younger student didn’t even notice as Cedric undressed and slipped into the pool.

Cedric allowed Harry to have his fun, then called, “Join me!”

The blush which spread across Harry’s cheeks when he realized what was happening was gorgeous.

Biting his lip, Harry said, “I don’t know if…”

He was still kneeling next to the faucets, and Cedric was near enough that it wasn’t difficult to push himself through the water until he was right in front of Harry. Quickly, he snatched Harry’s pajama clad arm in a tight grip.

“You can come in, or I can pull you in,” Cedric gleefully informed Harry as he watched Harry's top grow damp where Cedric had a grip on him. “The latter option meaning that you will return to your common room in soggy, cold clothes.”

Harry sharply exhaled as he frowned. “Slytherin,” he accused.

“Opportunist,” Cedric corrected with a smile. “Come on, Harry. We’ve got work to do. Are you going to do the work in comfort, or are you going to do the work while wearing your wool pajamas?”

“Fine,” Harry sighed. “Just - let go of me so I can get in.”

Cedric was glad to do just that, since Harry getting in entailed taking off his clothes. Cedric fully intended to sit back and enjoy the show.

Cedric watched, resting against the side of the pool as Harry went to one of the benches and began to remove his night robe, shoes, socks, and then his shirt. Cedric intended to watch the rest of Harry’s reveal, as well. However, before Harry pulled down his trousers or pants, he suddenly turned around, crying, “Catch!”

A moment too late, Cedric realized that Harry had grabbed his egg and tossed it towards the pool. Afraid that it might be damaged by such treatment, Cedric pushed himself off of the pool’s wall and dove for it, but even as he moved quickly enough to touch it as it dropped, he hadn’t moved quickly enough to save it before it fell into the water.

Cedric dove into the water, hoping to save the egg before it fell to the bottom of the pool and cracked or was ruined. As Cedric pushed under the water, however, he was astounded to hear voices singing.

* * *

“Mermaids,” Cedric realized as he watched the image in the stained glass twirl around. “Mermaids live beneath the water.”

“In the Black Lake?” Harry asked doubtfully.

“Of course.”

“I thought mermaids lived in the sea,” Harry argued.

“Muggle-born,” Cedric sighed. “Mermaids can survive in any large body of water, regardless of whether it’s saltwater or freshwater. The saltwater mermaids are certainly more friendly and attractive, but there are just as many mermaid settlements in freshwater as seawater.”

“Oh,” Harry murmured. “Wow. I had no idea. I didn’t even know mermaids were real.”

 _Muggleborn_ , Cedric wanted to intone once more. However, he knew that Harry would take Cedric’s bemoaning as offensive if he were to repeat himself, so instead, Cedric said, “We’ll have to go underwater to retrieve something precious to us, then, and we’ll have an hour to do it… So we have to find some way to survive underwater for that time.”

Harry groaned. “Back to the library then,” he complained.

“Not yet,” Cedric told him with a grin. “We can hardly visit tonight. Not after curfew, and not when we haven’t even had a chance to enjoy a nice bath…”

Harry’s eyes flickered to Cedric. The younger student’s glasses were a bit fogged from the bath’s steam, and as he opened his mouth to reply, Cedric deftly removed the lenses from Harry’s face and placed them at the edge of the bath.

Harry understood Cedric’s intentions, by then, and with wide eyes and a short intake of breath, he said, “Cedric, you can’t mean that you want to…”

“Why not?” Cedric hummed, propelling himself through the water so that he was very close to Harry. “This is the first moment we’ve had alone in ages, Harry, and I want to feel your skin.”

His breath hitching, Harry murmured, “But I’ve never-”

“I don’t care,” Cedric informed him, pushing forwards so that his mouth was pressed against Harry’s.

The Gryffindor sighed against his lips, then returned the kiss. Harry was careful not to let any other part of their bodies touch, and Cedric allowed the distance for some time - the time it took for Harry to become comfortable and engaged in the kiss. When Cedric broke the kiss, he was sure to quickly press his lips to the sensitive spot on Harry’s neck which he had discovered the last time they were close, so that Harry was so distracted by Cedric’s mouth and tongue that the younger teen didn’t notice when Cedric pressed his fingers to the skin of Harry’s lower back.

Cedric worked his tongue and teeth at the soft skin of Harry’s neck until Harry was moaning out loud. Then, confident that Harry was well distracted with the sensations he was enjoying, Cedric carefully maneuvered Harry through the water until he was sitting on Cedric’s knees, and their bodies were almost pressed together.

Harry seemed to realize their position after a few moments, and as Cedric bit at his collarbone said, “I don’t - I don’t know what’s happening…”

“Of course you do,” Cedric breathed, pulling Harry infinitesimally closer to himself. “Doesn’t it feel good? Don’t you like it? Harry… I want to take care of you.”

With this pronouncement, Cedric pulled Harry fully onto his lap. The sound Harry made was comical, an undignified, high pitched hiccup born of surprise. Cedric didn’t laugh at the noise, though. He was too enraptured by the sensation of skin-on-skin from thigh to chest. His hard-on was nestled against the soft skin of Harry’s inner leg, and Cedric could feel Harry’s arousal against his stomach.

Instantly, Harry was panting.

“Calm down,” Cedric instructed, trying to keep his tone low and his voice even. “It’s wonderful, Harry. You feel so good,” he assured.

Harry’s eyes were closed tight as Cedric canted his hips so that Harry slouched a bit between his legs, and their erections were suddenly pressed together.

“Let me look at you,” Cedric quietly requested as he wrapped his hand around their erections and pressed them together. “Open your eyes, Harry,” Cedric said more insistently.

As Cedric began to rock his hips and pump his fists, Harry loudly moaned.

Cedric used his other hand to take Harry’s chin and pull his face away from where he was attempting to press into Cedric’s neck.

“Look at me,” Cedric demanded. Harry finally opened his eyes and Cedric was suddenly drowning in pleasure and trust and green.

When Harry came, he cried out and panted and tossed his head. When Cedric came, he lurched forward, fastened his teeth to Harry’s shoulder, and groaned as he wrapped his arms around Harry’s back and held him tightly to his chest.

“Gods,” Harry groaned as he sagged against Cedric’s chest.

In reply, Cedric kept Harry pressed pressed against his chest as he kissed the younger teen's forehead. Chuckling, he asked, “You liked that, then?”

“Of course,” Harry breathed.

“I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” Cedric hummed as he ran his wet fingers through Harry’s wet hair. With a content sigh of his own, Cedric told Harry, “You’re wonderful. You deserve it.”

* * *

 The bubblehead charm was simple enough. It was all he needed, Cedric was sure. Therefore, upon mastering the spell, Cedric focused his energy on ensuring that he would be a powerful swimmer. On the nights he went to the prefect’s bathroom, he didn’t fill the pool with resilient, large bubbles - instead, he filled it only with water, and Cedric swam laps in the pool.

Cedric snuck out to the Black Lake a few times, as well, to condition his body to swim long distances in cold water.

“I don’t know how to swim,” Harry eventually told Cedric, his eyes downcast and his complexion pale.

“How in Merlin’s name do you not know how to swim?!” Cedric snapped. “Two-year-olds can swim!”

“Sure,” Harry bitterly mumbled. “Two-year-olds with parents who have the money for lessons and the time to take their children to the pool. My relatives didn’t think I was worth it. I never… I can’t swim.”

The bubblehead charm would be useless for Harry, then.

* * *

“What was the magic you were using?” Cedric asked through chattering teeth after the second task.

“Gillyweed,” Harry easily replied, seemingly unconcerned with the chill in the air or his wet clothes. “A house elf gave it to me.”

“I thought you’d been transfigured into a merperson, at first,” Cedric grumbled. Then, he smacked Harry’s shoulder.

“Ow! What was that for?!” Harry grumbled.

“Why didn’t you come after me when I rescued Jack?!” Cedric snapped.

Beside them, Jack and Ron both asked, “What?”

“All of my friends were down there!” Harry cried. “And a little girl! I couldn’t leave them!”

“Harry, we were never even in any danger!” Jack told him. “Dumbledore said the merpeople would return us to the surface after an hour!”

“You didn’t see the merpeople,” Harry grumbled. “They were really scary. You wouldn’t have liked waking up next to one of them.”

“You should have taken Ron and gotten back to the surface,” Cedric grumbled. “You would have been the first person back, instead of the last, and the merpeople looked about ready to attack you! They didn’t like you hanging around in their city, Harry.”

“Well I wasn’t leaving my friends and a little girl behind,” Harry stubbornly insisted, glaring at Cedric.

“If you were so unhappy about it, why didn’t you just pull Harry to the surface along with me?” Jack asked before a full fledged fight could begin.

“I tried,” Cedric snapped. “That gillyweed he used to breathe underwater also made him a powerful swimmer, and I couldn’t get a hold of him.”

“The merpeople found the chase very entertaining,” Dumbledore informed them with a smile as he approached their group. “Come along, Champions. It’s time to announce the scores.”

When Dumbledore announced that Harry would be given high scores regardless of the fact that he was the last champion to return because he insisted of making sure that all of the hostages were safely retrieved and returned, Harry gave Cedric a smug grin.

Krum scored second, even though he was the third champion to return. Cedric had been so occupied with catching Harry and dragging him to the surface that Cedric had released his hold on Jack, and Jack had gotten a bit of bruising on his back when he got caught in a riptide and was dragged along the bottom of the lake for a bit.

“That’s not fair,” Elliott loudly complained. “Of course Cedric would be more concerned with his boyfriend than with Jack. He’s not the one who kisses Cedric or-”

Jack elbowed Elliott in the ribs before Cedric’s friend could announce the extent of Cedric’s and Harry’s physical relationship.

“Tough luck,” Harry informed Cedric, who was now solidly in third place.

“If you pull any stunts like that during the third task, I’ll skin you,” Cedric curtly informed Harry as they made their way back to the castle with their friends. “Or I’ll kidnap you and keep you locked away until you no longer feel inclined to play hero wherever you go.”

Behind them, Ron made a strange noise low in his throat, but Harry laughed.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Harry chuckled as he bumped his shoulder against Cedric’s and then quickly darted over to press a kiss to Cedric’s chin. “If you’d been one of the hostages in the lake, I wouldn’t have stuck around after cutting you free.”

“You are such a liar,” Cedric told him with a frown.

“Maybe, but you wouldn’t have cared, because you would have been asleep,” Harry blithely continued.

“Keep it up,” Cedric warned. “It will be awfully hard to complete the third task if I have you spelled to my side.”

“Merlin, Cedric, stop broadcasting your kinky control fantasies in front of all of your friends,” Jack groaned.

“I think it’s romantic,” Hermione declared.

Ron audibly shuddered.

“Blimey, Granger,” Elliott muttered. “I should have known you’d be one of those closeted wild girls.”

“Don’t be crass,” the girl demanded with a roll of her eyes. “I just think it’s nice that Harry has someone who wants to protect him. Although, Cedric, if you ever actually do anything like that to Harry, Ron and I will hunt you down and destroy you.”

“If I ever actually did anything like that to Harry, you wouldn’t be able to prove it,” Cedric replied as he threw his arm over Harry’s shoulders.


	11. Chapter 11

“You’re looking a bit, er, _formal_ for your date with Harry,” Jack informed Cedric.

“That’s because we’re not technically going on a date today,” Cedric replied as he finished donning one of his best sets of casual robes and fixing his hair.

“You _are_ going with Harry to Hogsmeade, right?” Elliott asked.

“This afternoon, sure. In the morning, however, Harry is introducing me to his godfather,” Cedric informed his friends.

“Is this the same godfather who’s an escaped convict and living on the run?” Jack slowly asked.

“Yes. He’s also a half-mad pureblood from an extremely dark and extremely wealthy family, and I intend to make a good impression on the man,” Cedric replied.

“Right,” Elliott agreed, watching Cedric as if he thought he was crazy.

“Right,” Cedric determinedly replied.

* * *

The sweater Harry wore was ridiculous.

“My mother did _not_ knit that for you,” Cedric argued as he and Harry walked towards Hogsmeade, Cedric’s right hand wrapped around Harry’s while in his left he carried a basket of food which Harry had packed.

“She did,” Harry told him. “The others were quite nice as well, but I like how colorful this one is.”

“It makes you look as if a rainbow got into a fight with a bunch of pixies and your torso is where they took their dead for burial.”

“Don’t be unkind,” Harry demanded. “Your mother clearly put a lot of time and effort into making this sweater, and I think it was very sweet of her. And I like the colors,” he reiterated.

“You have no taste,” Cedric accused.

“If that were true, I never would have agreed to date you,” Harry argued.

“Dating and color coordination are two different things,” Cedric informed him with a sniff.

“Snob,” Harry stated.

“Brat,” Cedric returned.

They made their way through Hogsmeade, teasing each other the entire way. Cedric didn’t usually like it when people argued with him, but then he and Harry rarely argued about anything which actually mattered, Cedric found, and Harry was usually smiling as they attempted to get a rise out of each other.

Cedric had just punctuated a point by using his hold on Harry to pull the laughing Gryffindor into a playful kiss when a dog barked at them.

Cedric blinked at the unwashed, underfed animal which trotted up to them. It was huge with dark fur and dark eyes, but it seemed friendly enough.

“Look at you, you mangy fellow,” Cedric said in greeting, holding out a hand to the animal and kneeling so that it could sniff him.

“You like dogs?” Harry curiously asked as Cedric scratched the thing behind his ears.

“Only when they’re big and intimidating,” Cedric instantly replied. “My mother kept a toy poodle when I was young. It peed on the rugs, barked at everything that moved, and growled whenever anyone other than my mother was within a foot of it. The little beast was a joke and completely useless. This guy, though, would actually scare someone if he growled at them. Give him a bath and a few good meals and he’d probably be quite handsome, too. Hey, Harry, want to help me smuggle a dog into the school? I bet we could manage it if we asked Hagrid to keep this guy in his hut for us.”

Harry was laughing as he said, “Sure thing, Cedric.” But Cedric didn’t understand what Harry found so funny.

With a yip, the dog ran off, and the pair continued into the mountains beyond the village.

“What’s so funny?” Cedric demanded as Harry continued to chuckle.

“ _You’re_ funny,” Harry replied. “You and your love of big intimidating dogs.”

“Better than yippy little lap dogs who can only do damage to things by peeing on them,” Cedric told him.

They were a ways away from the village when they saw the dog ahead of them once again. The dog yipped at them from where it stood, then ducked around a boulder. When Harry and Cedric came level with the boulder, they saw the entrance to a cave.

“Come on,” Harry said, tugging on Cedric’s hand and pulling him into the cave.

“Wait,” Cedric said as Harry cast a lumos. “I thought we were-”

As soon as Harry and Cedric were in the cave, the boulder moved across the entrance, and Cedric found himself trapped in a small cave with Harry, a dog, and a… hippogryph? It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke.

The joke became even worse when the dog began to transform into a man - the man who Cedric was used to seeing on Wanted posters all over the Ministry and in Diagon Alley.

“I think your boyfriend likes me more than he likes you, Harry,” Sirius Black said with a lopsided grin as Harry released Cedric’s hand and darted forward to give the ragged man a hug.

Harry was laughing as he said, “He thought you were mangy. But look, he brought you food!”

Cedric gathered his courage as he stepped forward to meet Sirius Black.

“It’s good to meet you, sir. Harry’s told me a lot about you,” Cedric said in greeting.

“Oh?” the man asked as they shook hands. “Harry hasn’t told me one damn thing about you.” The man’s eyes narrowed as he turned his gaze to Harry, who was confidently going up to the hippogryph and patting its neck as the beast trilled at him.

“He hasn't?” Cedric asked.

“No. His last letter to me only had a little footnote at the bottom which said _By the way, I’ll be bringing my boyfriend_. So? Who are you, then?”

“Cedric Diggory, sir.”

“Call me sir one more time and I’ll - Wait. You’re the other Hogwarts champion. You’re in Slytherin, aren’t you?”

“Be nice, Sirius. Cedric has been really kind to me over the last few months,” Harry said as he rejoined the two. “Come on, let’s eat something.”

When the food in the basket was revealed, Black tore into it ravenously. He clearly hadn’t been receiving regular meals over the previous weeks and months.

“So?” the man asked when he had filled himself enough that he was able to actually breath between bites of food. “Tell me about the tournament.”

After the two of them had finished explaining the events of the year thus far, Black stared at them skeptically.

“Snape, sure. Karkaroff, maybe. But Moody? I worked with him a few times during the war. He has no tolerance for the dark arts. None. He survived the war and a long career as an Auror for a reason - he knows what he’s doing. He’s the best. He trained the best. And I think he’s the best person for the Defense position at Hogwarts.”

“People call him mad,” Harry pointed out.

“People call Dumbledore mad, as well. But would Dumbledore ever hurt a student? No,” Sirius pointed out.

“But… Moody _has_ hurt students,” Harry said slowly. “On our first day of class, he demonstrated the Unforgivables-”

“He what?!” Sirius snarled.

“-and then he transfigured Malfoy into a ferret one day when Malfoy threw a curse at me while my back was turned. He made Malfoy bounce up and down, and then… McGonagall showed up and she yelled at Moody…”

“Okay…” Sirius said slowly as he took several long breaths. “Alright… I think that Cedric may be on to something here.”

“Really?” Cedric asked.

Sirius nodded. “The Moody I knew was a vicious dueler, and he had no tolerance for the Dark Arts, as I said. But he also had a code of honor which he upheld. Part of that code was No Children. Even if the dark arts practitioner he was arresting had performed horrible magic, he didn’t harm them if they were underage. Alastor Moody would never torment someone who was still in Hogwarts, and while he would certainly condone lectures about the Unforgivable curses for underage students, he wouldn’t demonstrate them. You know what? I think Cedric has the right idea of it. I can’t stick around Hogwarts, but I think I’ll stay in the country and see if I can find a way to help you out.”

“Really?” Harry asked, his mood instantly brightening.

Sirius nodded. “We might not be able to get you out of the tournament, but there _has_ to be something we can do to give you some measure of protection. For now, though, be weary and stick close to your boyfriend. He seems to be doing a fine job of looking after you.”

As they parted from Black and went to enjoy the rest of their day in Hogsmeade together, Harry was beaming.


	12. Chapter 12

After learning that the final task would be a maze, Harry and Cedric spent every free moment they had studying in the library together.

Granger made for a fine assistant when it came to researching general purpose spells which would be useful in a crisis, and she compiled list upon list of spells for Harry and Cedric to study.

Black turned out to be a wealth of information, as well. Cedric began communicating with the convict regularly, at first when the man wrote requesting information which could only be found in spellbooks kept in the Restricted Section of the library. After a few weeks, however, the spells which Black was using - locator spells, mostly - did nothing to reveal the location of Peter Pettigrew or any other active Death Eaters who might have information about what was happening at the school. Therefore, Black began writing to Cedric about ways of keeping Harry safe, various methods of clearing his name without involving Pettigrew, and speculation on who in the school could be trusted and who couldn’t.

“Your godfather is kind of horrible,” Cedric told Harry, the admiration clear in his tone as he read over one of Black’s letters which gave suggestions on how to mess with Moody’s head and distract him from involving himself with Harry or the Tournament. “This is psychological warfare, plain and simple. He wants me to gaslight one of our professors.”

“Please don’t encourage him,” Harry replied with a sigh as he glanced up from the spells Hermione had him studying that day. “We’re trying to prove him innocent, not provide the Ministry with new reasons to lock him away.”

“Harry, your godfather spent over a decade in Azkaban. People don’t get better after something like that,” Cedric gently explained. “If he was a good person before he was locked away, it’s highly unlikely that he’s a good person now. Although from the ‘real life examples’ he gives me for some of these situations, I doubt he was ever a paragon of virtue to begin with. He’s smarter than to act on any of his more… reckless or dangerous impulses, at this time, but it’s good for him to have some sort of outlet rather than keeping his anger and desperation all bottled up inside.”

When Cedric turned his attention away from Black’s letter, it was to find Harry frowning at him.

“You think he might hurt someone?” Harry quietly asked.

“Maybe,” Cedric replied. “He certainly wants to. He was hurt by a lot of people, and he spent a long time living in a state of hopeless helplessness. That didn’t leave him just because he left Azkaban. He’s kept himself in check so far, but who knows what might drive him over the edge.”

“It's never been like that when he writes to me,” Harry argued.

“He loves you,” Cedric agreed. “He needs help, yet he’s your godfather. He’s supposed to be responsible for you, not the other way around. He loves you, and he’s afraid of disappointing you or letting you down. That’s probably the only thing keeping him in line. So no, he wouldn’t write to you about anything like this,” Cedric told Harry, motioning to the letter he’s recently received from Snuffles. “But it’s fine if he writes to me. Especially if he writes with ideas on how to keep Moody out of our hair, how to keep you safe, and how to survive the tournament. Sometimes his ideas are a little… extreme, sure. But even the maddest of ideas have some aspect of value in them.”

Groaning, Harry muttered, “Not only are you encouraging him, you’re using him.”

“Just a little bit,” Cedric agreed.

* * *

On the morning of the third task, Cedric was horrified to learn that his parents were there, and that they would be attending the task.

He was able to maintain a pleasant smile as he greeted them, at least.

“We’re so proud of you, Ced,” his father gushed as the man pulled him into a tight hug. “I know you’re a bit behind in points right now, but you’re a winner, Son. You always have been. You’ll knock that cheating Potter boy right out of the running-”

“Where is Harry, dear?” his mother asked as she gracefully ducked around her husband and pressed a soft kiss to Cedric’s cheek. “Is he doing well? He wrote a lovely letter thanking me for his Christmas gift.”

Amos rolled his eyes at his wife’s doting. No doubt the man believed the rumors and the _Prophet's_ reports that Cedric and Harry’s relationship was simply a means of spying on the competition. The students at Hogwarts knew better by then, but Skeeter’s increasingly scathing articles had painted Harry as some sort of manipulative seducer and Cedric as the hapless romantic whose heart would be broken the moment the tournament was over.

Glancing around the chamber the competitors were meeting their families in, Cedric informed his mother, “I don’t think Harry suspects that Mrs. Weasley or her son are here to support him. He only has his muggle relatives for family, and he doesn’t get on well with them. When the Headmaster announced that the champions would be spending the day with their families, Harry probably didn’t expect anyone to be here for him. I imagine someone will fetch him soon enough.”

“Tell me about him, Cedric,” his mother urged. “Your letters are always so vague! When did you begin dating? Have you met each other’s friends? Do you think he’ll be interested in staying with us for a week or so this summer?”

“Diana, really,” his father sighed. “We’ve talked about this. Cedric’s young - he still has another year left in Hogwarts, for Merlin's sake! His relationship with the Potter boy is probably just a schoolboy crush, or a phase-”

“Hush, Amos. Cedric has made his intentions towards Harry perfectly clear-”

“What about Potter’s intentions, though?” Amos pressed.

Cedric glanced between his parents, unsure of what, exactly, was happening.

His father, he understood - Amos Diggory had been ambitious in his youth. He’d been on his house’s quidditch team and after graduating from Hogwarts, he’d earned a position with one of the nation’s highest ranked quidditch teams. He’d played, and won, for two years, which was long enough for him to get a taste of fame, wealth, and prestige. Then, at the end of his third season, Amos had received an injury from a bludger which ended his career.

His parents didn’t often speak about the time which followed, but Cedric had heard enough vague comments from family members and friends to know that Amos hadn’t reacted well to his forced retirement. Their neighbor, Arthur Weasley, had helped Amos get work at the Ministry, and Amos thought himself too good for the position, his arrogance and pride almost costing him his job and livelihood.

Then, Cedric had been born.

The change in Amos’ disposition and behavior had occurred overnight, apparently. He was no longer discontent with his job or his home, and his depression abated considerably.

Cedric knew full well that his father had redirected his pride and ambition onto Cedric, rather than himself, in the hopes that Cedric would be greater than he had ever been and Amos could live vicariously through Cedric’s success.

Cedric didn’t mind his father’s attention, because he had plenty of ambition of his own, and the man had provided Cedric with every advantage and opportunity he could. As far as Amos could tell, Harry Potter was taking all of that hard work and sacrifice and crushing it under his heel.

Yes, Cedric understood his father.

It was his mother he couldn’t figure out.

Diana Diggory was a good person. She wrote to her parents every week, made sure that dinner was waiting on the table for her husband every evening whenever he arrived home from work, and she sent Cedric care packages when he was away at school. She was polite and had good relationships with her neighbors, people respected her power and ability as a witch, and she was considered an upstanding member of the wizarding community.

Cedric’s mother did everything she was supposed to.

Yet, she often seemed detached and uninterested in life, at least in Cedric’s eyes. She went through the motions of her day without any real thought or effort and she was very rarely genuinely passionate about anything.

Cedric couldn’t remember the last time he had seen her wear such a genuine smile or take any real interest in the world beyond the little bubble which she controlled.

Cedric found her interest in Harry unsettling.

Once his parents’ little tiff was over and Diana had once again returned her attention to him, Cedric told her, “I know that Rita Skeeter has been printing stories about us, but she doesn’t know the half of it. When we first started spending time together, it had nothing to do with the Tournament. Not really. We were just… studying together…”

For the next half hour, Cedric bragged about his boyfriend to his mother. His father scoffed and rolled his eyes whenever Cedric made any point about how amazing Harry was, but his mother hung on every word. By the time Cedric was finished explaining their relationship, the woman was almost swooning, she was so eager to meet Harry.

Cedric wasn’t surprised when Harry arrived almost an hour later than the other champions, and he greeted Mrs. Weasley and her son with overzealous surprise.

Cedric’s mother was at least polite enough to let the trio finish their greetings before sidling over to introduce herself.

As Cedric and his family made their way across the room to greet Harry and the Weasleys, Cedric was already considering how to apologize for the undoubtedly rude behavior his father would engage in. However, as his mother’s gaze narrowed and locked on Harry, he wondered if he might need to come up with a way to apologize for his mother, as well. The prospect was daunting - Cedric apologized on his father’s behalf all of the time. He was used to apologizing for his father, and he was good at it. However, he had never had the need to do so for his mother.

Luckily, his mother didn’t pounce on his boyfriend and latch onto the fourth year like Cedric expected she would. Instead, she first greeted Molly Weasley and commented on how handsome Bill had grown since she’d last seen him.

Only then did she turn her attention to Harry.

“Harry,” Diana greeted with a gentle smile as she set a hand against Harry’s cheek. “You look well. And you’re wearing one of the sweaters I made for you! It fits perfectly, I see. Molly was kind enough to tell me your measurements, of course, but when Cedric was your age he shot up like a beanstalk.”

Harry was beaming at Cedric’s mother, telling her, “The sweaters are very comfortable. Almost as comfortable as Mrs. Weasley's!”

“Oh, Harry,” Molly Weasley sighed. “Don’t be rude.”

The woman was being very gracious considering the fact that Cedric’s mother was essentially attempting to usurp Harry’s love from her. Cedric wondered if the woman was so kindhearted and good-natured that she didn’t mind sharing - Ronald Weasley must have inherited his possessiveness and jealousy from his father. Or maybe it was a byproduct from being the sixth child in an impoverished family.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Diggory,” Harry told his mother. “I didn’t mean that your sweaters weren’t comfortable. They are! I really like them!”

Laughing gently, Cedric’s mother told him, “Think nothing of it, darling. Molly Weasley’s knitting is the stuff of legend. _Almost as good as_ is a better comparison than most could hope to receive.”

Harry was blushing furiously as he muttered, “Still. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

Bill Weasley was eyeing Cedric as he asked, “This your boyfriend, Harry?”

“Oh! Yeah! Mrs. Weasley, this is Cedric! Bill, you met Cedric at the World Cup last summer, remember? Cedric, Bill’s a curse breaker for Gringotts.”

That would certainly explain why Weasley’s gaze had narrowed and turned suspicious as he wearily shook Cedric’s hand.

Cedric was able to recognize people’s true natures at first glance, without even interacting with them. Some people, however, especially those who worked extensively with dark magic and studied the nature of man, such as curse breakers, developed and honed the ability over time. Bill Weasley had doubtlessly recognized what Cedric was capable of. The eldest Weasley boy would have been too preoccupied with his father and siblings last summer when they met for the World Cup to pay Cedric much attention then, but he was certainly paying attention now.

“Molly, Bill, Harry,” his mother said with a smile, “Amos and I intended to visit Hogsmeade with Cedric, then take a tour of the grounds. Would you like to join us for lunch at the Three Broomsticks?”

“Lunch in Hogsmeade would be lovely,” Mrs. Weasley responded without pause. “What do you think, Harry?”

“Yes, please,” he replied.

As they left the chamber and started towards the village, Harry slid his hand into Cedric’s and intertwined their fingers as they walked.

* * *

During lunch, Cedric’s father partook in his usual overbearing, elitist behavior, but only towards Harry. Amos received a few harsh frowns from the Weasleys, but Harry’s own yearmates generally behaved more abominably towards him so he barely blinked at Amos’ comments. Cedric and his mother were used to ignoring the man when he publicly behaved in such a way, and were therefore able to enjoy their meal and the Weasleys’ company.

At the end of the meal, the two families made their way back to the school grounds.

“You’re welcome to visit our home this summer, Harry,” Cedric’s mother was saying to Harry as Amos and Molly Weasley walked ahead and chatted about a Muggle-relations policy which was being voted upon at the Ministry the following week. “Cedric intends to participate in an intern-apprentiship over the summer, and he’ll probably be busy with his studies most of the time, so it would be nice to have some company around the house. Then of course the Weasleys are our neighbors, so you would be welcome to pop over and visit them at their home, as well.”

Harry was looking at Cedric’s mother with wide eyes, clearly pleased with the invitation.

As the pair began making plans to spend several weeks of the summer holiday together, Bill Weasley fell into step beside Cedric, and they fell a bit behind the rest of the party.

“If you intend to threaten me or warn me away from Harry, I should tell you not to waste your breath,” Cedric said in greeting. “I’ve already heard it from your brother, Granger, Snape, and I’ll probably hear it from my own mother when my family parts from yours.”

“You’re one of _those_ , then,” Weasley said with a long sigh. “Fine. Still, I’ll have you know that if you put one toe out of line, it won’t only be me you’ll have to worry about. You’ll be added to the international Gringotts Watchlist as soon as I return to work.”

Cedric rolled his eyes as he reiterated, yet again, “I have no intention of harming Harry.”

“It’s not Harry I’m worried about,” Weasley responded.

“Pardon?” Cedric asked.

“Cedric, if you’re going to be involved with Harry Potter, you’re going to be involved in the decades of war and strife which preceded and followed his birth. That boy is smack dab in the middle of a power struggle between some of the most vicious, most powerful wizards and witches in the world. There are people - a lot of people - who want him dead. This entire tournament could be one long, drawn out plot to see that very thing done. He’s been lucky so far, but that might not always be the case. And if there’s anything I know about _your type_ , it’s that when you put your all into a thing, you really put _all of yourself_ into it. I’m not worried about what you might do to Harry, Diggory. I’m worried about what you might do to everyone else if anything happens to him.”

Cedric had long ago determined that there was a plot against Harry, that participating in the tournament was dangerous for the younger student, and that Mad Eye Moody was somehow involved.

Knowing those facts was one thing, but hearing someone suggest that the danger Harry was in was greater and more certain than he had anticipated was something else entirely. Then being faced with the prospect of an _after_ in which he and Harry didn’t drift apart or break up, but in which Harry was dead terrified Cedric and set him off kilter. For a moment, he was dizzy, overwhelmed, and he was _scared_ for the first time that he could ever remember.

It took a few moments for Cedric to return his focus to his surroundings, to get a hold of himself, and to tell Weasley, “If you’re worried about anyone else, worry about Mad Eye Moody. If anything happens to Harry tonight, it’s that man’s throat I’ll slit.”

Weasley seemed thoroughly shocked and unnerved by this statement, but by then their party had arrived at Hogwarts and the curse breaker didn’t have any time to respond before Cedric’s parents were saying they wanted to tour the gardens where they’ spent their first date together, and Molly Weasley was suggesting a walk near the lake.

Before they parted ways, Cedric darted forward and pressed a quick kiss to Harry’s mouth. “I’ll see you tonight,” he promised.


	13. Chapter 13

When Cedric came to, he opened his eyes to chaos. People were running and screaming, his mother was hurting him, and his vision kept going gray.

“What?” he gurgled, hardly registering the taste of blood in his mouth.

“The aurors will be here in a few moments-” someone was saying.

“Blast the aruros! Where are the healers?!” his father roared.

“Harry?” he asked.

“Stay still, Ced,” his mother commanded, her voice quiet yet still audible over the mayhem. “Madam Pomfrey is on her way over, and the healers will be here any moment.”

“Wha-”

“Stop talking,” she snapped in reply. “Amos - Amos! Get over here and help! The spells aren’t working and he’s losing blood!”

His father was there in a moment, kneeling next to his mother and placing his hands on Cedric’s stomach, next to his mother’s. When the man put his weight on his hands, Cedric groaned at the pain which shot through his torso.

“Harry?” he eventually managed to ask again.

“They’ll find him,” his mother promised.

Madam Pomfrey was suddenly crouched over Cedric, asking, “What in Merlin’s name happened here?!”

“Moody attacked him,” his father announced, breathing hard and pale faced as he stared down at Cedric’s wound.

“Diggory attacked Moody!” a nearby student argued. Cedric’s eyes slid over to the girl - a seventh year Hufflepuff. She seemed indignant when she made the accusation, but as soon as Cedric’s gaze landed on her, she went pale and shut her mouth.

“Can you help him?” his mother asked.

Instead of answering, Pomfrey’s lips pressed together and she said, “Amos, go and fetch the headmaster. Bring him here immediately.”

Cedric’s father was on his feet and running in a moment.

“Madam?” his mother quietly asked.

“The headmaster will need to lend me magic to complete the counter curse. Whatever spell Mr.Diggory was struck with, it was highly powerful and dark. I can’t… I can’t believe that Alastor Moody would ever cast a spell like this, let alone on a child. We need to-”

Cedric never learned what they needed to do, because in the next moment he lost consciousness.

* * *

His stomach ached, and every breath he took caused pain to ripple through his chest, but it was nowhere near as bad as the last time he’d been conscious.

Taking a slow, deep breath, Cedric opened his eyes and looked around the dark infirmary.

His mother was asleep in the bed next to him, lying on top of the covers with her face pressed into the pillows. His father was in a chair at the end of his bed, his torso slumped against Cedric’s mattress and his head lying pillowed on his arms near Cedric’s calves.

Looking around the rest of the infirmary, Cedric recognized that two other beds were occupied. Victor Krum lay snoring in one, and Harry lay in the bed across from Cedric, his breathing quiet and even.

With a sigh, Cedric allowed himself to fall back asleep.

* * *

 “Wake up, Cedric. Madam Pomfrey needs to give you some potions, then you should have some breakfast.”

Cedric blinked awake, blearily gazing at his mother for a few moments as she spelled him into an upright position.

The movement only caused a slight twinge in his stomach, but when Madam Pomfrey gave him his potion, the liquid made his guts burn for a few moments.

“Soft foods only for the next few days,” his mother was telling him as she arranged a tray over his lap. “I know you prefer sugar in your porridge, but Madam Pomfrey insisted that only a drop of honey could be added. Your father was called into the Ministry - this whole horrible mess has the place in an uproar, apparently. He should be back after lunch, however-”

“What happened?” Cedric asked as he stared across the infirmary to where Harry was curled up on one of the beds, drool coming out of the corner of his open mouth.

A few beds down, Viktor Krum was being roused by his mother, and the stern-faced woman was fussing over his blankets.

“You were retrieved from the maze during the Third Task when you attacked one of the other competitors - Fleur Delacour,” his mother quietly began to explain. “We thought you might have been negatively affected by one of the creatures or curses in the maze when you were brought out. You were very confused, didn’t know where you were or when… Sometimes you thought it was the second task you were competing in, not the third. When you began attacking Alastor Moody, we thought that you were still being affected by the spell. But then the two of you began to duel… _truly_ duel, I mean, and you accused him of casting the magic on you which compelled you to attack Ms. Delacour, and you accused him of attempting to murder Harry. He was trying to kill you, and…”

“And this,” Cedric guessed, motioning to his stomach.

His mother nodded, her lips pressed tightly together and her complexion pale.

“As Moody was casting the spell, Professor Snape stepped in and engaged him in the duel before Moody could... Professor Snape was ultimately able to subdue the man before he could cause serious injury to anyone else. Several of the Professors went into the maze to investigate your allegations against the man, and both Harry and Mr. Krum were discovered missing along with the cup.”

“What happened?” Cedric again asked, slowly this time.

“The cup was a portkey. Harry and Mr. Krum grabbed it at the same time, and it carried them away from Hogwarts. Before they could take stock of the situation, someone cast the killing curse at Mr. Krum and he immediately attempted to apparate back to Hogwarts. He was unaware of the anti-apparition wards placed on the grounds, however, and as a result he was splinched and deposited in the Forbidden Forest. The portkey attached to the cup brought Harry back to the school after he had been missing for almost an hour.”

“He’s okay?” Cedric asked.

“He will be,” his mother quietly confirmed. “Madam Pomfrey gave him Dreamless Sleep.”

“And Moody?” Cedric asked.

“Alastor Moody… was rescued from the trunk which he has been kept prisoner in for the past nine months. The man who has been drinking polyjuice and acting as your professor for the entire school year was revealed to be a Death Eater who escaped from Azkaban several years ago. His potion wore off while he was still stunned. The aurors transported him to the Ministry for questioning, but before they could get a full explanation of the events which transpired, the man killed himself.”

“Merlin,” Cedric sighed, internally cursing the incompetence of most Ministry employees. “And what happened to Harry? Where did the portkey take him? Why was he gone for so long? Did it have something to do with the Dark Lord? If Moody, or the Death Eater, or whatever, was here at Hogwarts, then who was-”

“Calm down, Cedric,” his mother demanded with a gentle smile. She gently smoothed the hair away from his forehead as she said, “It would probably be best if we let the Headmaster and the Ministry sort everything out before getting worked up. Harry will be awake soon enough - he’ll want to speak with you, I’m sure. He was very concerned when he found that you had been injured. Now eat your porridge.”

Cedric supposed that he was fortunate to have any sort of explanation at all in relation to the night's events, considering “don’t worry about it” was his mother’s go-to response concerning most events, both major and minor.

With a heavy sigh, Cedric did as his mother commanded and ate his porridge, fully aware that the sooner he acquiesced to her demands, the sooner he would receive a full explanation. 


	14. Chapter 14

“-events at Hogwarts. Bartemius Crouch Jr. was promptly apprehended and delivered to the Ministry of Magic, where he received the Dementor’s Kiss. Before the mad devotee of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was apprehended, he was responsible for the death of his father, Bartemius Crouch Sr., and Ministry employee Bertha Jenkins. It was only because of the Ministry’s prompt response to the danger that the madman was captured and rendered ineffective that further casualties were prevented-”

“What a load of rubbish,” Cedric sneered, interrupting Masie as she read the _Prophet’s_ rather imaginative retelling of the third task.

“No kidding,” Zabini said with a sneer of his own. “Because of the Ministry’s prompt response my arse. It was Cedric who responded, Snape who knocked Crouch out, and a dozen teachers and students who kept their spells from striking any students white Crouch and Cedric were dueling. The Ministry had nothing to do with it.”

“Because of their prompt response, Crouch promptly died,” Elliot put in.

“Harry said that Bertha Jenkins was one of the shades which came out of the Dark Lord’s wand during their duel,” Cedric put in. “Crouch didn’t kill her. The Dark Lord did.”

“So it’s true?” Michael quietly asked. “He’s back?”

Cedric nodded. “Pettegrew helped the Dark Lord preform the spell. The Dark Lord called his Death Eaters, and they witnessed his duel with Harry. Harry was able to name the people attending, people who weren’t even arrested or suspected as being Death Eaters after the war, and who he would have no knowledge of except for if they were there. And instead of responding to the threat, the Ministry’s trying to cover it up.”

“So the bit about Crouch’s confession to working with Pettegrew was true?” Daphne put in as she finished reading the article over Maisie's shoulder.

“They may have been able to twist the rest of the man’s confession into the ramblings of a madman, but they questioned him thoroughly and directly enough about Pettigrew’s survival that they weren’t able to obscure it,” Cedric said with a nod. “Percy Weasley confirmed the story about the rat with a missing toe. Professor Snape and Lupin were able to corroborate the rest. My father says that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement is reevaluating Sirius Black’s sentencing.”

“This article doesn’t even mention anything about Harry or Krum,” Zabini announced as he skimmed the article over Masie’s shoulder.

“It’s like after Crouch was discovered, everything else just stopped happening,” Masie agreed.

“What is going on?” Jack asked with a frustrated sigh. “Why is the Ministry… misreporting everything?”

“The Minister and the rest are trying to cover up their incompetence,” Cedric replied with a frown.

With a long sigh, Jack muttered, “You just _had_ to have Potter.”

Leveling his best friend with narrowed eyes, Cedric said, “Yes. And?”

Jack and Elliott met eyes, then glanced at the various Slytherins sitting in the compartment with them.

“The Zabinis are neutral,” Blaise suddenly stated.

“I have a muggleborn great-grandmother on one side of my family, and a muggle-born grandfather on the other,” Michael stated, his brow furrowing. “And I have an aunt who’s a squib. If the Dark Lord gains power again, my family won’t have wealth or blood status to fall back on if we tried to claim neutrality.”

“Helping out Harry is one thing,” Maise suddenly put in, “but supporting Dumbledore and the so-called Light? It’s because of those people that our families have to celebrate natural magic while hidden in caves. It’s because of them that our family magic has to stay locked away and hidden under floorboards.”

Daphne Greengrass, who hadn't truly engaged in the conversation thus far, quietly declared, “My uncle was a Death Eater.”

Her announcement effectively shut everyone up. Neutrality and hiding magic and muggle-relations three generations old was nothing like having connections with the Dark Lord’s inner circle.

“And?” Jack pressed.

“They wouldn’t tell my mother how he died,” Daphne murmured. “When Death Eaters died in battle against aurors or wizards who followed Dumbledore, they were hailed as heroes. But when my uncle died, no one would say what happened to him. My father says that the only time Death Eaters don’t talk about dead Death Eaters is when the cause of death was other Death Eaters. My parents were supporters of the Dark Lord, but they were careful not to actually have any contact with him.”

“So?” Cedric asked. “I think we’ve established that I’m with Harry. It’s also probably safe to assume that people like the Parkinsons and the Malfoys will enthusiastically support the Dark Lord. Now what about you lot?”

“Look,” Michael said with a sigh. “I’d like nothing more than to declare myself for Dumbledore right here and now, but let’s face it. The Dark Lord would do more to hurt my family than the Ministry or Dumbledore would to protect us.”

Leaning forward, Jack met Michael’s eyes and asked, “Well then I guess that the real question is who are you more afraid of. The Dark Lord, or Cedric?”

“Um, what?” Maise slowly asked. “Why would we be afraid of Cedric?”

“Because unlike the Dark Lord, I lack a flair for the dramatic,” Cedric announced. “When I kill someone, I won’t leave a fucking calling card behind announcing that it was me, and your family will never understand what happened to you.”

While Blaise, Maisey, Daphne and Michael stared at him with wide eyes, Elliott sighed and asked, “Did you have to go straight to threatening people’s lives, Ced?”

“It’s the Dark Lord’s primary method of ensuring submission and cooperation. Why shouldn’t it be mine, as well?” Cedric replied.

“Harry would be disappointed,” Jack pointed out.

His eyes narrowed as he eyed his friends, Cedric informed them, “Harry doesn’t need to know.”

Slowly, Michael raised his hand. “I don’t know when the conversation about an upcoming war stopped being hypothetical, but if Harry Potter is accepting someone like Cedric on his side, then I guess I’ll stand on his side, too.”

“There!” Jack said, pointing at Michael. “That’s it! Don’t think of it as Dumbledore’s side - Think of it as Harry Potter’s side, instead.”

“Are you being serious?” Daphne asked.

Cedric was honestly surprised when it was Zabini who nudged her in the side and reminded her, “Potter’s an honorary Slytherin. At least while we’re at school, we can have his back.”

“With Pansy Parkinson looking over our shoulders?” Daphne insistently argued. “It was bad enough when I partnered with him in potions for a month this year. She was relentless-”

“You’re a Slytherin, aren’t you?” Maisie put in. “You can find ways of supporting Potter without wrapping a Gryffindor banner around your shoulders.”

“Are you suggesting we spy on our housemates for Potter?” Blaise asked.

“I wasn’t suggesting anything!” Maisie immediately argued, color rising to her cheeks. “Michael might be eager to declare his intentions, but I’m not putting my money on a child two years younger than we are just because Cedric is holding a wand to my heart!”

“What are you lot arguing about?”

Half of the inhabitants of the compartment jumped when the door slid open, Harry ducked in, and he took the seat next to Cedric.

Harry had mostly healed from his meeting with the Dark Lord, but he had begun having horrible nightmares, evidenced by the dark circles under his eyes.

Cedric put his arm around Harry and allowed his boyfriend to slump against his side as he informed him, “We’re arguing about which sides we’ll all take during the upcoming war.”

“With any luck, there won’t be a war. Hopefully we’ll find a way to destory Voldemort before he gains any real sway. And as for taking sides - don’t. The lot of you should leave the country so you don’t have to get involved. Voldemort’s a madman, and he’ll do everything in his power to draw anyone and everyone he touches into madness with him. Get out while you still can.”

With a deep yawn, Harry settled more firmly against Cedric’s side and began to doze.

“Well, that was ominous,” Elliott muttered.


	15. Chapter 15

Cedric didn’t win the Triwizard Tournament -- he wasn’t even one of the _two_ winners. As such, he was not entitled to any of the tournament's prize money, and Cedric’s dream of studying in Germany for the summer was dashed.

He wasn’t terribly upset by the failure, however. Not as upset as he would have been months ago, before he’d started dating Harry and his own future was the only thing he cared about. Now, even if he were able to afford living in Germany for several weeks, he didn’t dare leave Great Britain. Not after the Dark Lord had regained a body. Not when the Ministry was actively working to cover up his presence.

Instead of studying in Germany in between his sixth and seventh year, Cedric accepted an internship in the Ministry’s National Magical Archive, which he considered a close second to the apprenticeship in Germany. It was worlds better than the apprenticeship his father wanted for him to take in the International Magical Relations Department.

If Cedric had learned anything over the past year, it was that he didn’t have the patience for idiots, and political offices were full of them. He wanted to stay as far away from all that as possible.

An internship in the Ministry’s archives meant that his schedule was very accommodating, as well -- On his first day working, the wizard who presided over the archives, a dour man by the name of Wilhelm Siedel, explained that Cedric would be assigned a list of tasks every day, and he could come and go as he pleased as long as they were completed to the man’s satisfaction.

The flexible schedule meant that Cedric was able to visit his boyfriend whenever he wished.

“You’ll want to be somewhere quiet when you’re going through the meditations,” Cedric told Harry when they first met in Arabella Figg’s living room. Cedric found it ridiculous that he had to visit Harry in a neighboring squib's home instead of his own, but Harry insisted that any wizard visiting the Dursley's would be met with harassment. Upon Cedric's insistence on meeting with his boyfriend over the summer, Dumbledore had directed them to the squib's house instead.

“The Dursley’s house is out, then,” Harry told him with a long sigh. “Dudley’s on a diet, and even the tantrums he throws in his room, in private, are obnoxiously disturbing.”

“This place is out, as well,” Cedric told Harry, disdainfully eyeing two cats which were tussling over a cloth mouse which wasn’t even spelled to move and a third cat which was crying to be let out into the garden. “You could come with me to the archives. They’re plenty quiet, and massive. There might be too much magic there, however. The book said the trick was to meditate in areas which weren’t saturated with magic so you could begin to sense the difference between latent energy and magical energy.”

“Is that what it was talking about?” Harry asked, looking down at the book which Cedric had given him for Christmas. “The author made it sound like some sort of mystical force which could only be accessed by untangling my intestines or something.”

“This book was written six hundred years ago by a woman who never attended Hogwarts or any other magical institution and discovered how to manipulate magic entirely on her own. She used muggle terms and ideas to explain her method of manipulating magic because she had no idea that magic wasn’t accessible by all humans. The paragraphs you’re referring to are simply referring to a breathing technique which will help you calm yourself and focus on your surroundings. You’re supposed to breathe from your stomach.”

“Merlin, the book’s written in English but it still needs translating?” Harry groaned.

“If it makes you feel better, I had to have Siedel explain it to me,” Cedric revealed. “He said that once you read more and get used to the woman’s thought process and her method of terminology, it becomes a pretty easy read.”

“From someone who was clearly a Ravenclaw, that doesn’t mean much,” Harry pouted.

“Don’t act like a child,” Cedric demanded. “Nothing worthwhile is ever easy. That includes complicated forms of magic which might one day save your life when facing a dark lord.”

“From someone who _everything_ comes easily to, that doesn’t mean much,” Harry told him, his tone a bit more vicious than it was a moment before.

Harry had never spoken to him in such a way before -- it was completely unlike him.

“Don’t be a brat,” Cedric demanded with a frown. “Not everything comes easily to me. I simply work so damn hard that to other people it looks that way.”

Harry’s eyes remained narrowed at him for a few more moments before his shoulders abruptly dropped and he said, “Sorry, Cedric. I didn’t mean that.”

“Well then what _did_ you mean?” he asked.

“Sirius is presenting himself to the Ministry tomorrow,” Harry informed him, the non-sequitur setting Cedric off balance for a moment. “I’ve been asking if I’d get to live with him after he’s declared innocent, like I was supposed to live with him all along. I finally received the answer this morning, and it’s no. I do not get to live with my godfather, innocent or not, because I’m safer at my relatives’ house. Cedric, it’s not fair. Why is it that even when good things happen, they never go right? Why can’t I-”

Harry abruptly cut himself off as Ms. Figg came into the sitting room and presented them with a tea service.

Both teens thanked the squib by wrote, politely drank a bit of tea, and then made their excuses to leave once they could no longer stand to listen to the woman gossip about people they didn’t know.

“Try the meditation for at least half an hour,” Cedric quietly told Harry as he stepped towards the floo. “We’ll talk later.”

Harry nodded, appearing worn and beaten, before waving Cedric off as he stepped into the floo and called out his destination.

 

* * *

 

Cedric was somewhat surprised when Arthur Weasley wandered into the archives to visit with him one day in mid July.

“Misuse of Muggle artifacts?” Siedel slowly repeated after Mr. Weasley had introduced himself and informed Siedel of his position in the Ministry. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here? The Magical Archives doesn’t keep any lists of _Muggle_ artifacts.”

“I’m here to visit with Mr. Diggory, actually. His family and mine are neighbors-”

“Ah,” Siedle replied, his interest in Mr. Weasley’s presence immediately dissipating. “Make it quick, then. Our office received four crates of ancient scrolls this weekend, and Diggory isn't going home until the lot of them have had preservation spells placed on them.”

Mr. Weasley blinked at Siedel’s abrupt dismissal, his blatant violation of the underage magic laws, and the man’s unapologetic use of child labor.

“Would you like some tea, Mr. Weasley?” Cedric asked.

“Thank you, Cedric,” Mr. Weasley absently replied as he watched Siedel return to his work of cataloging and sorting the new texts.

Cedric showed the man to the small kitchen which he and the other archive employees used for breaks. Besides Siedel, there were three witches and wizards who were employed full time, and the lot of them kept strange hours. Cedric suspected that one of them was actually an Unspeakable, and the other two were Ravenclaws through-and-through, often getting so caught up in the documents they were working with that they wasted their time reading rather than performing their tasks. Cedric wasn’t surprised to find the kitchenette empty -- it was unlikely that any of his coworkers would be in until the afternoon.

“Does the Ministry often allow their interns to handle and spell delicate historical documents?” Mr. Weasley asked as he took a seat in one of the mismatched chairs at the table. He still sounded horribly confused and off-kilter.

“Not usually,” Cedric informed him as he put the kettle on. “My spellwork is more precise than the other archivists, however, and I’m not as prone to distraction -- Seidel's other assistants would probably be more interested with reading the scrolls rather than placing protective spells on them. Then there’s the matter of Mr. Siedel’s temperament -- his poor manners don’t disturb me as much as they do my coworkers, so a few… allowances have been made for me while I’m here this summer.”

“Ah,” Mr. Weasley hummed as Cedric handed him a cup of tea.

“So what brings you to the archives today, Mr. Weasley?” Cedric asked. “Has something happened in Ottery St. Catchpole?”

“Oh, no Mr. Diggory. I was simply using our relationship as neighbors as an excuse. In truth, Headmaster Dumbledore asked that I speak with you.”

“Oh?” Cedric asked, blinking.

Mr. Weasley nodded, his expression suddenly grim. “My wife explained that you and Harry have become quiet close, and the Headmaster said that you went to great length to defend and protect Harry over the last year, even sacrificing your own standing in the Tournament and publicly speaking on his behalf to your Slytherin dorm mates. The Headmaster asked me to help him determine how sincere you were in your efforts.”

Cedric’s eyebrows rose. “Mr. Weasley, are you asking me about my intentions towards Harry Potter?”

“I consider him a member of my family,” Mr. Weasley responded with a nod of conviction. “As his own parents are not present to care for or protect him, and it seems that Sirius Black’s trial will last several more weeks, it is my responsibility to evaluate and judge you.”

Leaning back in his seat, Cedric asked, “Are you suggesting that I formally court him?”

“What? No, no. He’s still only a boy -- he has three more years of school left, and you have another year yourself! And quite frankly, formal courtships are terribly outdated. I don’t believe the practice would have any value in the current… political climate.”

“Then why does this conversation seem like the beginning of a pureblood courtship ritual?” Cedric asked.

Mr. Weasley gave an agitated sigh before explaining, “It may surprise you to learn that I’ve never had to have this particular conversation before. For how many children my wife and I have, none of them have been involved in a serious relationship before.”

“Oh,” Cedric replied, relaxing a bit.

It wasn’t that he would refuse a formal courtship with Harry, not if it was required of him. But formal courtships usually lasted a minimum of two years, and they involved things like sponsors and balls and blasted chaperones. The entire thing would be very inconvenient.

Coughing awkwardly, Mr. Weasley said, “I suppose I didn’t explain myself properly. From everything I’ve heard, you care deeply for Harry. What I need to understand is the extent to which you would go to protect him, and I need to determine if there is any possibility that you might… betray him at any point.”

“Don’t be daft.”

Cedric and Mr. Weasley jumped as Siedel made his way into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of tea.

“Excuse me?” Mr. Weasley asked, glancing from Siedel to the kitchen's entrance.

“You heard me,” Siedel muttered as he sniffed the tea and made a face at it before dumping an obscene amount of sugar into his cup. “I told you not to be daft. Diggory would go to any lengths to protect the Potter boy, and he would never betray him.”

“I placed anti-eavesdropping spells on the room,” Cedric hissed. “How did you-”

“The same way I keep track of the tombs and documents you sneak out of my archives, stupid boy,” Siedel replied with a sneer. “I have been the Master of these archives for almost 45 years. Your anti-eavesdropping spells can’t trump the layer upon layer of spells I’ve laid in place over the years. Everyone always thinks they’re so clever when they procure basic, simple employment in an institution which holds vast amounts of knowledge -- at least you always return the stolen tombs and you complete the tasks required of your job here. As for you, Weasley -- Stop wasting his time. He has work to do. Either invite him to join your secret order or shove off.”

“How do you know about-?”

“Archivist,” the man reiterated. “Dumbledore’s little club is mentioned a dozen times in documents and reports from the first war. And I will tell you now -- if you ever again conduct club business in my halls, I will falsify evidence showing that you’ve attempted to steal sensitive materials from the archive and you can conduct your business from Azkaban, instead.”

“Duly noted,” Mr. Weasley muttered as his face went pale.

With one last sniff, Siedle wandered from the kitchen with his tea and returned to work.

Cedric and Mr. Weasley were quiet for several moments before Cedric asked, “Secret order?”

Mr. Weasley sighed.


	16. Chapter 16

“Behave,” Cedric’s mother demanded.

“For Merlin’s sake, Diana, the boy was almost killed,” his father sighed. “I don’t blame him for the sodding tournament any longer.”

“I was talking to Cedric, darling.”

“Me?!” Cedric asked.

“Yes, you,” his mother told him. “Harry is going to be our guest for the rest of the summer, and our home is going to be a place of safety and comfort for him. It is _not_ going to be a place where you can safely and comfortably sneak him into your room for a bit of-”

“Diana!” his father cried. “Cedric would never behave so inappropriately!”

Her narrowed eyes still focused on Cedric, his mother said, “The two of you are not to be in a room with the doors closed at any time, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Mother,” Cedric sighed.

 _We’ll sneak out to the fields around the village to engage in such behavior, instead_ , Cedric promised himself.

“Good,” his mother said with a nod. Then, “It’s almost time. Amos, could you pop off to the shops to gather our orders? Cedric, you can help me with Harry's room.”

It didn’t escape Cedric’s notice that his mother was giving Harry the spare bedroom at the end of the upstairs hall, so that his parents bedroom was situated between Harry’s and Cedric’s.

“I spelled the curtains red and gold,” his mother chattered as she removed the clothing which was being stored in the closet and packed the robes into garment bags in preparation for their relocation to the attic. “The morning sun comes in through these windows, however, and the curtains made the whole room glow. I thought Harry would find blue more soothing. I only wish we had time to find a more suitable quilt -- will he mind the floral print, do you think?”

“The curtains and quilt could be dipped in glowing pixie dust and Harry would be delighted,” Cedric idly informed her as he performed a spell to banish the dust collecting on the shelves and under the bed. “Do we have an extra box for the portraits? Harry grew up with Muggles, and I don’t think he’ll appreciate Great Aunt Lucinda chatting with him while he dresses in the morning.”

“Of course -- I apologize, Lucy. I promise your frame will only be in the closet for a day or two until I can find you a nice spot in the upstairs hall.”

“Could you put my portrait in the stairwell?” the portrait of Cedric’s great aunt at the age of nine asked. “I like watching people come and go.”

“Of course, dear. Cedric, do you think Harry would prefer the oak desk or the cherry in his room? The oak is more sturdy, but I think the cherry would compliment the coloring quite well.”

Cedric heaved a great sigh.

Dumbledore had only deemed their house safe for Harry to visit the day before, and Cedric’s mother had been wound tighter than a wicker-woozy top ever since. The moment the final ward had been placed over the grounds, Diana had been a flurry of activity, coercing Cedric and his father to assist in making everything _just_ right. He’d never seen his mother in such a state before.

“Mother,” Cedric slowly said. “Harry lived in a cupboard for most of his childhood. The Burrow is one of his favorite places in the world. You could keep the oak and cherry desks stacked on top of each other across the bed and he’d think you were a gracious host simply for giving him a place to store his trunk. Why is it that you’re so… so… _anxious_ about Harry’s visit?”

It wasn’t until he said the word out loud that Cedric realized that anxious was exactly what his mother was. It had taken him so long to identify the emotion she was exhibiting because she had never been anxious about anything, as far as he knew.

“Well it would hardly be ideal if he didn’t want to live with us after this unfortunate situation with the Dark Lord is taken care of and he graduates from Hogwarts. From what I’ve come to understand of him, it will be challenge enough to convince him not to take a job right after school. Convincing him to move to Otter St. Catchpole _and_ decline any employment he’s offered would be far too difficult. It would be best to dissuade any notion of his living elsewhere sooner rather than later.”

Cedric stood and blinked at his mother for a moment -- Beyond _I’m going to marry him_ , Cedric hadn’t thought much about his future with Harry. For his own future, he would be going to Germany to earn a Mastery, of course, and then he would return to England and set up a business for himself. And Harry?

He could instantly see it -- Harry would be offered any and every job in the world. More likely than not, he’d either become a professional quidditch player or an Auror, depending on how this conflict with the Dark Lord concluded. If Harry joined a quidditch team, he’d be traveling constantly, hardly remaining in any one place for more than a few weeks at a time. If he became an Auror, he’d want to live in London and-

Clearing his throat, Cedric said, “Help me bring up the Cherry desk. Then he’ll need a perch for his owl. Do you suppose there might be any Gryffindor decorations in storage? Your grandfather was in Gryffindor, right?”

“Nearly everyone in my family has been in Slytherin, Cedric,” his mother gently reminded him. “My mother had a fit when I went into Hufflepuff. No, it’s your father with the Gryffindor heritage. I believe it was your great-grandmother who was sorted there -- I’ll just go see if she left any of her quidditch memorabilia in storage while I fetch the desk, shall I?”

Cedric hummed as he removed their family portraits from the walls of the spare room. After a moment, he asked, “Do you think father’s camera still works? Since we’re taking down all of the decorations in this room, it might be nice to take some photos while Harry’s visiting.”

“What a wonderful idea,” his mother brightly agreed. “I’m sure he’d appreciate some framed pictures of you and his friends.”

 

* * *

 

Cedric flooed to Arabella Figg’s house to see Harry every couple of days, but when he and his father went to retrieve Harry from his relative's home on the 31st of July, Harry greeted him as if they hadn’t seen each other since the end of term.

“It’s like you’re excited to see me or something,” Cedric said in greeting, attempting to draw breath through the tight hug Harry was giving him.

“Are your aunt and uncle going to see you off, Harry?” Amos asked as he glanced around the impeccably clean parlor of Number 4 Privet Drive.

“They took Dudley out to celebrate,” he blithely announced. “He’s lost half a stone while dieting this summer.”

“Ah. I… I see,” Amos muttered as he stared at a still photograph of the Dursley family, comprised of one wand-thin woman and two males the size of pre-pubescent trolls.

“Do you have everything, Harry?” Cedric asked.

“Right here. Where should I tell Hedwig to go?” he asked as he indicated his trunk, his owl, and her cage.

“Our home is referred to as the Blue Knoll,” Cedric’s father informed Harry as he released Harry’s owl and shrunk his belongings. “That’s the address we’ll use for the floo, as well.”

“Traveling by floo is horrible,” Harry sighed as they started across the street to Ms. Figg’s home.

“Most people who are raised in Muggle environments have a difficult time acclimating to magical forms of travel,” Amos chipperly announced as they walked down the drive to Ms. Figg's home. “I had no idea until I began working with some Muggle-borns at the Ministry. You’ll get used to the floo once you begin using it frequently.”

Harry gripped Cedric’s hand tightly as they walked, and he was grinning as if the short trek to the squib’s house was paramount to winning the Quidditch Cup.

“The Weasley’s are waiting for you at our home,” Cedric warned him. “Don’t eat anything the twins offer you, okay? We were late because it took a bit of time for the magic to wear off and for my father to return to his natural human form.”

“Oh,” Harry replied, going wide-eyed. “Oh. Wow. They work fast.”

“What do you mean?” Cedric asked, his eyes narrowed. However, he had no time to receive a response, as they arrived at Ms. Figg’s home and were hurried into the floo.

Cedric had warned Harry of the Weasleys in order to give him some forewarning, but he hadn’t informed Harry of the other guests they were hosting for Harry’s birthday celebration.

Harry was first through the floo, so when Cedric arrived in his home, it was to the sight of Harry tightly hugging his godfather.

“There are still a few things I need to sort through with the Aurors,” Black was telling his godson. “The murder conviction is being pardoned, but the charges against me for failing to register my animagus form aren’t.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked as he pulled away from the man.

“It means that five years of my time in Azkaban are considered valid and justifiable. They’ll remain on my record as time served, and the Ministry won’t be required to provide me with full reparations for my false imprisonment. Although, my solicitor is arguing that I’m entitled to some form of compensation for those five years under the argument that I spent those five years in maximum security and solitary confinement. Wizards who violate the Animagus Registration Act are usually kept in minimum security, where there are human guards and the prisoners are allowed to go outside and mingle and sometimes even participate in work programs-”

“Alright, Sirius,” Remus said with a sigh, stepping into the conversation. “Let’s not regale the fifteen-year-old with stories of your time in prison, please. Happy Birthday, Harry.”

“Thanks, Remus,” Harry replied as he hugged their former professor.

As the lot of them went outside for cake and presents, Diana Diggory’s smile was almost as large as Harry’s.

 

* * *

 

 At the end of the day, after Harry’s birthday party had concluded and the guests had departed, Cedric helped Harry unpack his trunk, hang up several framed photographs of Harry and his friends which had been provided by the Weasley family, and place various trinkets on the shelves next to Harry’s books.

“I kept my dragon, too,” Cedric chuckled when he placed the Hungarian Horntail on a shelf next to a flute.

“This is great. This day was great. Your home is great. Your parents are great,” Harry was gushing as he unpacked his school homework and placed it on the cherry desk. “How did they get Dumbledore to agree to let me visit?”

“My mother can be quite insistent when she wants to be,” Cedric revealed. “It helped that the Burrow is nearby, in case of an emergency. And tomorrow we’re stashing emergency portkeys all over the house and grounds.”

“Portkeys? To where?” Harry asked.

Cedric shrugged. “To whatever stronghold the Order is setting up. Dumbledore’s casting the Fidelius Charm today.”

At this, Harry released an aggravated breath and collapsed into a sitting position on the bed. “It’s ridiculous that you get to be part of the Order and I don’t, when I’m clearly the person who’s going to have to battle Voldemort.”

“I agree,” Cedric told him. “And so do a few others. But the majority of the Order are arguing that you’re still too young, and if they allowed you into the Order they’d have to allow other 15-year-olds to join, as well. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, and quite a few others, don’t want you involved until you’ve graduated from Hogwarts. And as long as the Dark Lord is lying low and keeping quiet… The headmaster agrees that we should bide our time.”

“Still,” Harry said. Cedric wanted to say that he was pouting adorably, but he wasn’t. Harry seemed angry and indignant.

“Did you meditate this morning before we came to get you?” he asked.

“I was too excited,” Harry responded. “Why? I told you -- I still don’t feel anything. It’s not working.”

“Maybe it’s not doing anything for your ability to perform speachless or wandless magic, but it’s certainly doing something to improve your moods,” Cedric responded. “You’ve been ill tempered this summer. Why?”

“Because people are keeping things from me! I have a chance to learn about Voldemort’s movements and help come up with ways of protecting people, and it’s, it’s like I’m being told to go play outside while the adults take care of it!”

“People have always hid things from you,” Cedric pointed out. “And you’re not an adult.”

“They let _you_ join!” Harry whined.

“Only because Professor Snape _and_ your godfather both vouched for me,” Cedric revealed.

“What?” Harry asked, his eyes wide. “But… They hate each other.”

“Exactly. The fact that they were able to agree on allowing me into the Order was a big deal, apparently. Then there’s the fact that I’ll be turning seventeen and will therefore be a legal adult in a month. They’re not trying disclude you, Harry. They’re trying to protect you. You and I both know that you having any semblance of a normal childhood has been spelled to hell, but the adults in your life are still making an attempt at providing that for you.”

“Stop sounding so reasonable,” Harry demanded. “I’m trying to be angry.”

“Your anger is unreasonable,” Cedric countered. “Your anger towards the Dark Lord, his Death Eaters, and the Ministry? That’s fine. Be angry at them. But being angry at the people who love you and are trying to protect you?”

With a long exhale, Harry’s shoulders slumped. “I just… I want to help.”

“I know,” Cedric told him. “But right now? There’s nothing _to_ help. The Dark Lord hasn’t made any move, the Ministry is scrambling to maintain any semblance of control, and you… You’re not going back to your relative's house for the rest of the summer. Try to enjoy your time here, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry told him with a shaky smile.


	17. Chapter 17

Cedric liked it when he was the first to come. It meant that he could touch Harry with lazy, indolent hands and study Harry without distraction.

Harry was very reactive to Cedric's touch. During Cedric's first time exploring Harry's body while they lay in a small grove of trees which separated the Diggory property from their neighbors, Cedric discovered that Harry's skin was littered with areas which were sensitive to touch and pressure.

Harry was a moaning, shivering mess within moments, and Cedric found him delightful.

One lazy summer morning, Cedric kept Harry on edge for close to an hour. Their touching was frantic, at first, their kisses hard and demanding. After Cedric orgasmed, the pace changed considerably.

Harry was pliant at first, throwing his head back and panting as Cedric ran his mouth along the inside of Harry's arm. Harry gasped and moaned when Cedric gently nipped at the skin inside Harry's elbow, then sucked on the sensitive area on Harry's inner wrist. When Cedric pressed a kiss to Harry's open palm, the young teen gave a quiet, content sigh.

By the time Cedric had Harry on his stomach, Harry's mood was considerably changed. He pleaded with Cedric, begged even, as Cedric counted the ridges of Harry's spine with his tongue, kneading at Harry's firm arse the entire time. When Harry begged for more, Cedric chuckled against Harry's skin, because even though the very idea of pushing himself into Harry made his head spin, they had talked about it, and Harry said he wasn't ready to preform that particular act, yet, and he wanted their first time to be special, the romantic sop.

Instead, Cedric contented himself with brushing a finger over Harry's hole as he continued his count. Then, when he grew hard again, Cedric thrust his cock along the crack of Harry's arse until he came again, all over Harry's back.

After that, when Cedric had repositioned Harry to his back so that Cedric could trace his lips along Harry's ribs, Harry's begging became more demanding until Harry wasn't begging or demanding at all, but desperately sobbing, instead.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Harry keened as Cedric swirled his tongue around Harry's navel, keeping his hands firmly pressed against Harry's hips so that he couldn't thrust up against Cedric. "I just... I just want to..."

"Hush. I know," Cedric murmured. "But I want to take my time. Just for now. For a little while longer. We won't be able to do this at school, you know. Not with classes and curfews, or the constant threat of students walking in on us or, Merlin forbid, professors. For now, I want to keep you like this for as long as possible. I want to memorize every part of you - how you taste, how you move, how you look and sound-"

Harry released another moan, the sound hitching in the middle as Cedric ran his hands up Harry's sides and he buried his nose in the sparse hairs around Harry's cock.

Distantly, Cedric heard the bells ringing in town, signaling mid-day. Cedric's parents thought that he and Harry were playing a seeker's game in one of the fields, and they would be expected home soon.

With a despondent sigh, Cedric climbed up Harry's body and positioned his thigh between Harry's legs. "Come on, then," he murmured before latching his mouth to Harry's neck.

Cedric couldn't imagine allowing anyone else to rub themselves off against his thigh - Harry's desperate thrusting seemed base and animalistic. Cedric didn't have the time to work himself up for another proper go, however, and he didn't mind so long as it was Harry-

The younger teen came with a cry, clutching his hands to Cedric's shoulders and hitching one of his legs up around Cedric's.

"Perfect," Cedric decided.


	18. Chapter 18

When Harry was living in Little Whinging and Cedric was visiting him every couple of days, Cedric had noticed Harry’s mood fluctuations. They became far more obvious once Harry was living in his home and they saw each other every day.

On one of Cedric’s days off from the Archives, he asked, “Can I join you for your meditation this morning?”

They had just sat down for breakfast, and Harry was halfway through his first cup of tea for the day.

“Sure,” Harry easily agreed, but without any real enthusiasm.

Cedric held his tongue through the rest of breakfast. He and his father shared a newspaper while Harry and his mother cleared off the table and washed the pots and pans used for cooking, and Cedric offered to help dry the dishes and put them away when his mother mentioned a community meeting she needed to prepare for.

After breakfast, Cedric followed Harry out of the house and across the grounds.

From glancing through the book Cedric had given Harry for his work in speechless and wandless magic, Cedric knew that the meditation Harry practiced meant to help him sense the energy and magic in his surroundings, and that the meditation was complicated and delicate.

Cedric was therefore surprised when Harry trekked to a spot part way up one of the hills surrounding his home, plonked into a seated position on the ground, slouched against a tree trunk, and then began gazing at the countryside.

Taking a seat beside Harry, Cedric asked, “Shouldn’t you close your eyes and practice your breathing?”

“I am breathing,” Harry told him. “And closing my eyes is distracting. I either fall asleep or stop paying attention to my surroundings.”

“Ah. So… How is it working, then?”

Harry shrugged, his eyes on several birds which were flying overhead. “Better than I thought, honestly. I didn’t think anything was happening when I first started, but now I think the problem was that I was in a muggle area lacking in magic. I’ve noticed it every day that I was here.”

Cedric perked up at this. “You didn’t tell me…”

Again, Harry shrugged. “It’s going to take a while for me to become proficient in sensing magic. Right now, I’m noticing magic, but it’s in brief flashes, and only if there’s a magical creature or herb nearby. The book says that once I fully master the technique, I’ll be able to sense magic, pinpoint its source, its intensity, and nature, and I’ll be able to sense latent energy in nature as well. One of the mastery practices the author talks about is the ability to turn latent energy into magical energy. It’s really advanced, and it will probably be ages until I can even sense latent energy-”

Settling against the tree, Cedic listened to Harry talk. The younger teen had read the first few chapters of the book a dozen times by this time, and he was only just grasping some of the ideas the author was explaining. Harry explained how the process had worked for him thus far, how frustrating his first few attempts were, how he kept trying for fear of disappointing Cedric, how he figured out that he didn’t need to cross his legs and hum with eyes closed while meditating. He went on and on, and when he trailed off, Cedric attempted to mimic Harry’s slow breathing.

Every few minutes, Harry would consciously breathe from his stomach, counting twenty breaths, and then he would return to breathing normally and easily with his attention focused on his surroundings.

They stayed there for an hour, and then started back towards the house.

“Why do you like the meditation so much?” Cedric asked as they walked. “I thought you would find it incredibly boring.”

“I wouldn’t say that I _like_ it,” Harry told him.

His eyes narrowed at Harry, Cedric asked, “Then why are you always in such a better mood after you do it?”

“Am I?” Harry asked, blinking at him. “I hadn’t noticed. Maybe it’s because for a little while, I’m not thinking about Voldemort or the Ministry or the upcoming school year. It’s nice to simply… not worry for a bit.”

Cedric wondered if the meditation Harry was practicing was only good for people who weren’t like Cedric, in terms of _not worrying_.

 

* * *

 

Cedric had been uneasy and on edge for the entire summer, but it wasn’t until the end of the holiday, when he, Harry, and the Weasleys went to Diagon Alley to purchase their school supplies and Harry was cornered and almost killed by a dementor, and then almost arrested, that Cedric determined he wasn’t being paranoid, and something strange was going on.

After Harry’s trial, Cedric left his parents and the Weasleys to fuss over Harry while Cedric ran down the Headmaster before he could escape the Ministry.

“Ah, Mr. Diggory,” the elderly man said with a congenial smile when Cedric caught up to him. Dumbledore didn’t slow down or hesitate as he made his way towards the atrium. “Congratulations on being named Head Boy. And you’re returning as captain of the Slytherin team, I hear-”

“Headmaster, why are you avoiding Harry?” Cedric asked before the old man could break out into a run in his attempt to get out of the Ministry. The man’s behavior was extremely unusual -- Cedric had been giving his attention to Harry for less than a year, but he had noticed even before then that the Headmaster doted on the Gryffindor. Everyone in Hogwarts was well aware that Harry was the man’s favorite student.

Dumbledore ignoring Harry was highly unusual, and highly suspect. It was suspect enough that Cedric wondered if the man he was walking alongside was a polyjuice drinking imposter.

“Avoiding Mr. Potter?” the Headmaster asked without missing a step. “Not at all, Mr. Diggory.”

“Then why-?”

They had reached the Atrium, and the floo network. Upon arriving at the chimneys, Dumbledore turned towards Cedric, set a hand on his shoulder, looked him in the eyes, and told him, “I apologize Mr. Diggory, but I’m afraid I don’t have time to chat today. School is starting soon, and I have yet to find someone to fill the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts. I appreciate your concern, but we’ll need to wait to discuss the issue until the start of term.”

Despite the words which came out of Dumbledore’s mouth, what Cedric heard was, _Later, at Headquarters_.

 

* * *

 

Upon being declared innocent, the Black properties and holdings were released to Sirius Black’s care.

At first, Black wanted to make the family town home in London the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix as some sort of cosmic fuck you to his family and ancestors.

Remus Lupin had talked some sense into the man, convincing Black to supply the Order with one of the Black’s business properties, instead. The former restaurant/hotel was located in one of London’s lesser known magical areas, Loc Alley. Four hundred years ago, the alley was a popular London community hub, but had fallen out of popularity over the years, with many of the large businesses inhabiting the ally either closing or moving to Diagon Alley.

Members of the Order met in the basement of the business property while craftsmen worked to renovate the restaurant and hotel above ground. The multitude of people who were constantly coming and going from the business meant that Order members went unnoticed as they snuck in and out of their meeting area.

“The situation at the Ministry is rapidly deteriorating,” Dumbledore gently explained to Cedric when they met in the hotel’s cellar that evening. “Those in positions of authority are not only denying Voldemort’s return to power, they are actively trying to discredit any and all who would suggest otherwise.”

Cedric immediately understood what the Headmaster was suggesting - he was attempting to distance himself from Harry in the event that Dumbledore’s name and reputation was besmirched. He wanted to ensure that Harry wasn’t taken down with him.

Cedric recognized that this was a blatant lie, and any effort to make it true would be useless. Harry was uncompromisingly truthful and vocal about the Dark Lord, and any attempt to silence him would be futile.

“Harry is a good person with a big heart,” the Headmaster continued. “He does, however, have his flaws. For all of his good intentions, he is often impulsive and reckless, and as a result his safety and that of his friends is compromised. Mr. Diggory, I ask that you counsel caution to him.”

“Of course,” Cedric replied in lieu of calling the man out on his lies.


	19. Chapter 19

“Another one for you,” Siedel informed Cedric with a sneer.

Placing his work aside with a sigh, Cedric stood from his desk and started for the archive’s kitchen.

It couldn’t be Mr. Weasley again, or anyone else from the Order. They could now meet at headquarters whenever they needed to speak, so there was no reason for anyone to visit his place of work.

Cedric idly wondered if he should being taking his breaks in the Atrium -- perhaps then he wouldn’t have to deal with Siedel’s ire when people wandered into the archives looking for Cedric.

“Michael?” Cedric asked when he saw his housemate in the kitchen inspecting his surroundings. Noticing the badge on the older teen’s robes, Cedric said, “The Department of Education? I thought you wanted to go into the Department of International Magical Cooperation after you graduated.”

“Of course I did,” Michael replied with a tired sigh. “I got my foot through the door as a page, but it became very obvious, very quickly, that the Department of Education was where things were happening.”

“Educational Decree Number 22,” Cedric stated. “I saw it in this morning’s Prophet.”

Michael nodded. “And it’s only the beginning. It was the first Decree passed, but there are three dozen others which the department’s drafting proposals for. I wanted to warn you -- Dolores Umbridge is being sent to Hogwarts to teach DADA. She’s a real piece of work, Ced. Since being assigned to the department, she’s had a dozen people sent off, and a dozen others brought in. She-”

“I know who she is and what she’s capable of,” Cedric darkly announced. “She was at Harry’s trial.”

“Then you know that Harry will need to keep out of her way,” Michael urged.

Cedric nodded. “Thank you for the warning.”

“Right - when Umbridge tries to throw me into the cauldron, remember that you owe me,” Michael responded with a harried frown.

 

* * *

 

“I need to pack,” Harry insisted. “I swear, Cedric, your family is spoiling me. I can’t fit all of my books or clothing into my trunk anymore-”

“Leave some things here, then,” Cedric told him. “You don’t need your first or second year texts, and some of your summer clothes can be put in the closet for storage, and - I’ll finish your packing for you. You need to go do your meditation before we leave for London,” Cedric demanded.

“I can miss _one_ day-”

“You really can’t,” Cedric insisted. “That meditation is as powerful as a potions regime for you, Harry. I don’t know what’s happened to you this summer, but when you don’t meditate, you behave strangely for the entire day.”

Harry blinked at Cedric with wide eyes. “Do I really?”

“Yes,” Cedric told him. “Now go, - I’ll come and get you when it’s time to leave.”

With a heavy sigh, Harry aquiested and left Cedric to finish packing their things for the school year.

“What has you so cross this morning?” Cedric’s mother asked as she came into the room to assist him. “You aren’t usually short-tempered when you speak to Harry.”

“I can’t figure out what’s wrong with him,” Cedric grumbled as he hurried to pack Harry’s things - he’d told Harry to pack the night before, but the younger teen’s insistence on packing everything he owned meant that nothing was packed at all. “Dumbledore knows, I think, but he’s hiding it from Harry and lying about it to me. Then there’s the Dark Lord -- waiting for him to make some sort of move and reveal his intentions is maddening. Not to mention how poorly the Ministry is reacting to the situation-”

His mother sighed as she began to make Harry’s bed. “You never did have the patience for politics, darling.”

Cedric paused in his complaining. “That’s what this is, isn’t it? Politics.”

“Of course,” his mother hummed.

Cedric was Head Boy, captain of the Slytherin quidditch team, a former champion in the Triwizard Tournament, the best employee in the Ministry’s Magical Archives, and Harry Potter’s boyfriend.

With a deep breath, Cedric reminded himself that he had everything, and he could do anything.

Including engaging in politics.

 

* * *

 

After completing the Head Boy’s mandatory walk of the train, Cedric dropped by the compartment his friends were occupying instead of joining Harry.

“Hey, Ced,” Elliott greeted as he ate some sweats he’d purchased from the trolley. “How was your summer?”

“Busy,” Cedric replied as he took a seat.

“It must have been,” Maisie told him with an exaggerated pout. “You didn’t write me a single letter.”

“I told you -- Cedric had an internship at the Ministry,” Jack put in.

“I was also working with Harry on developing the skills to perform magic without using speach or a wand, and I was conscripted into Dumbledore’s secret anti-Dark Lord order,” Cedric announced.

“Merlin, Diggory,” Blaise hissed. “You can’t just go around making declarations like that!”

“Half of the students in my year have been bragging about how their parents are attending dinners with the Dark Lord!” Daphne hotly agreed. “If they hear you saying things like that, they’ll-”

“They’ll what?” Cedric asked. “They’ll report my devious plan to the Dark Lord?”

“ _What_ devious plan?” Jack suspiciously asked.

“My devious plan to become the next Dark Lord,” Cedric blithely replied. “You lot are my inner circle, of course. And I’m only dating Harry Potter so that I can determine where the _former_ Dark Lord went wrong and avoid befalling the same fate as him.”

“Are you insane?” Jack hissed.

“Zabini, you’re my second-”

“Hey!” Jack snapped. “I’m your best friend! I should be your second! And - wait, no! There will be no seconds, because you are _not_ doing this!”

“The Zabini’s are neutral,” Blaise pointedly reminded Cedric.

“Then you should have followed Harry’s advice and gotten out of England when you had the chance,” Cedric replied. “As it’s too late now, you will be my second. Jack, no offense - if I were actually attempting to become the next Dark Lord, I would certainly demand that you stand as my right hand. However, with the state of things as they are, Zabini should be my second. He has a more authoritative presence than you, and his calm demeanor and even temper means that when we stand side-by-side, we’ll present a greater impression of stability.”

“Cedric, shut up,” Maisie quietly pressed, her tone urgent as she leaned forward in her seat. “If what Daphne says is true, you’re already a target because of your relationship with Harry. Doing this will put you at the top of the Dark Lord’s list!”

“No it won’t,” Cedric denied. “At worst, the Dark Lord will consider my efforts amusing. At best, he’ll attempt to manipulate me into joining him and using me to accomplish his goals. If what Harry tells me about him is true, the man is too arrogant to consider me a proper threat, especially considering my age and the fact that I’m unwilling to practice the dark arts while residing in a castle controlled by Albus Dumbledore.”

“Stop,” Elliott demanded. “I don’t want to be involved in this.”

“Listen, you idiot,” Cedric snapped. “Just because spells haven’t been cast doesn’t mean the war hasn’t begun. There is no neutral, and there is no escaping involvement. You lot were too dung-headed to declare sides at the end of the last term, but the time for stalling is over. If we’re going to get ahead of this fight, we need to move. Declare now or fuck off.”

“Merlin,” Daphne sighed. “Before you showed up, we were debating about whether we could get the school to host another dance during the Christmas holiday this year.”

“I’ll suggest a dance at the first prefects meeting,” Cedric promised.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Cedric Diggory,” Jack dryly proclaimed, “the only man in the world who would recruite his schoolmates into participating in mad and dangerous plots by bribing them with a dance.”

Shaking her head, Maisie declared, “This plan may be mad, but I trust Cedric not to kill me for no apparent reason more than I trust the Dark Lord _or_ Dumbledore. I’m in.”

“Gods, fine,” Elliott groaned.

As the rest of them agreed to play along with Cedric’s plot, he leaned back in his seat with satisfaction.


	20. Chapter 20

Cedric had grown frustrated over the summer as his and Harry’s future became more unstable. However, after determining a plan of action and enlisting the assistance of his friends, he was overcome by a sense of certainty and calm.

As a result, he was able to maintain a pleasant facade during the Welcome Feast. On the first day of classes, after Harry told him about his confrontation with Umbridge and the detentions he had been assigned, Cedric was able to publicly and convincingly apologize to Umbridge on Harry’s behalf.

“Dumbledore has been taking advantage of Harry for years,” Cedric morously informed the woman as several fourth year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws watched on while they waited to be let into the Defense room for class. “That man has him all mixed up and confused. I’ve been doing everything I can to set Harry strait, but the Headmaster’s influence over him is very powerful. I appreciate your concern for him, and I thank you for your assistance in keeping him in line. It’s good to know that I can rely on someone else to protect him.”

“Of course, Mr. Diggory,” Umbridge simpered. “You’ll let me know if he has any other problems, won’t you?”

Cedric earnestly nodded before telling the woman, “I understand that you’ve given Harry detention. Don’t treat him too harshly, please? It’s not his fault, really. I’ve been doing my best to keep Dumbledore away from him, but…”

“I understand, Mr. Diggory. I believe that a firm talking to will enlighten Mr. Potter as to the reality of the situation, and his detention will be comprised of little more than writing lines.”

Cedric gave the woman a relieved smile before starting towards his next class.

* * *

“This is - it’s just negligent!” Granger raged as she flipped through the DADA text, her movements becoming increasingly frustrated and agitated as she skimmed the lessons.

Weasley and Zabini were watching her with wide eyes while Jack and Maisie watched the fifth-years in confusion.

“Granger usually treats books with reverence and unerring respect,” Cedric explained to his friends even as he heard the distinct sound of a page ripping.

“Negligent!” she repeated.

“It isn’t negligent,” Cedric told her with a sigh. “Calling it negligent implies carelessness and disregard. Umbridge is actually being very deliberate in what she's doing. What she’s attempting to do is a rather common method of exerting control. Keeping the masses uneducated means keeping them helpless. She’s being sloppy about it, though - they always get sloppy when they allow their ego to rule them. If she wanted to effectively utilize this technique, Umbridge would have gone about it in a much more subtle way. Broadcasting her intentions in every class on the very first day of school was jarring and infuriating and it was only successful in causing instant discord and strife.”

Cedric’s eyes flickered to Granger, who had calmed considerably during his explanation, but she was still holding the Defense text in a white knuckled grip and she was studying him with pursed lips.

“Well… what are we going to do about her, then?” Weasley asked.

“For now? Keep our heads down and keep out of her way,” Cedric replied. “ Essentially, ignore her. If she thinks she has the power and she’s in control, she won’t bother us. In the meantime, Zabini and the others will help me establish my cover. Jack, you and Elliott should be overheard discussing my less-than-honorable intentions for Harry - And where is Harry? Shouldn’t he be finished with dinner by now?”

“With dinner, sure,” Weasley replied with an ugly frown. “Umbridge keeps him in detention for ages, though.”

Cedric scowled. “Detention with Umbridge? Still? It’s been almost a week - he’s probably written enough lines to fill a book! Is she _actually_ trying to torture him or something?”

“Yes,” Weasley and Granger chorused.

“He missed the quidditch tryouts yesterday!” Weasley whined.

“Can you please forget about quidditch for a few minutes, Ron?” Granger hissed. “Missing tryouts isn’t nearly as bad as what she’s done to his hand.”

Cedric’s spine went stiff. “What’s she done to Harry’s hand?” he slowly asked.

When their eyes turned to him in response, Weasley gaped at him, and Granger’s eyes went wide as she stared at him, her face going pale and her mouth firmly clamping shut.

“What. Has she done. To Harry?” Cedric asked again, his eyes narrowing as rage began to rush through him.

Visibly gathering her courage, Granger said, “Don’t do anything hasty, Cedric.”

“I’m not an idiot,” he snapped. “Tell me!”

“She’s making him write lines with some kind of cursed quill,” Weasley blurted. “It uses Harry’s blood as ink, and the words are carved into his skin-”

“Cedric!” Jack cried when Cedric immediately stood from his chair.

“A Ministry employee is using magic like that on underage students?” Maisie was asking with wide eyes. “Gods-”

“Cedric, you can’t-” Jack cried as he lunged for Cedric, grabbing his arm before he could pass through the tapestry and into the main library.

“I can’t what? Tell Snape?” Cedric hissed.

Jack released his arm with a relieved sigh, allowing Cedric to begin his march to the dungeons.

When he reached Snape’s office, he barged into the room only to find that Draco Malfoy was already there, lounging in one of the chairs in front of Snape’s desk, helping the professor grade essays for the younger years.

“Knock, Mr. Diggory,” Snape intoned from his desk, hardly looking up from his own grading.

Straightening in his seat, Malfoy gave Cedric one of his well practiced sneers as he said, “It’s undignified to-”

“Shut up and fuck off, Malfoy,” Cedric snapped.

“Mr. Diggory!” Snape hissed.

Malfoy stood from his seat, an angry flush rising to his cheeks as he snarled at Cedric, telling him, “You can’t speak to me that way!”

“Don’t mistake your father’s power as your own,” Cedric demanded with a cruel twist of his mouth. “If you’re not gone in five seconds, I’m writing to him and informing him of the late night jaunts you’ve been taking around-”

Within moments, all color had drained from Malfoy’s face, and he didn’t even bother to grab his school bag before hastily shuffling around Cedric to get out of the office. Cedric slammed the door behind him, locked it, and then cast a silencing spell over the entire room.

“Mr. Diggory,” Snape quietly snarled as he stood. “What is the meaning of this outburst?”

“I’m going to kill her,” Cedric stated as he met the man’s eyes. “I am going to rip her limbs from her body-”

Snape was around the desk and in front of Cedric within a moment.

“What’s happened?” the man asked.

“Umbridge is punishing Harry by making him carve words into his skin. Weasley said that the lines she’s been making him write during his detention use his own blood as ink-”

With a sharp intake of breath, Snape drew to his full height as he hissed, “That reckless little - I’ll deal with this, Diggory. For Merlin’s sake, get out of the castle for a few minutes and calm down. You’ll have to deal with the aftermath of your little outburst when you return to the Slytherin dorms this evening.”

“If Harry doesn’t join me by the lake within the next ten minutes-”

“Do not threaten me!” Snape roared. “I am _not_ Draco Malfoy, and you do as I say! Go, now!”

With a frustrated huff, Cedric did as commanded, storming from Snape’s office and making his way out of the castle.

 _How did I miss this?_ he asked himself.

The first week of term was always a bit of a mess - establishing a routine for his new class schedule, Head Boy duties, and quidditch captain duties were high priority, but Harry was his _first_ priority. And Cedric had been behaving as such, he was sure. Even though his evenings were filled with other activities while he worked to establish an ideal rotation for the prefects and quidditch practice, Cedric had been making time to walk Harry to his classes, to ask after him when they met at meals, to make sure he had been doing his meditations, and-

 _Harry’s been lying to me_ , Cedric instantly knew.

 _Of course I meditated this morning_ , Harry told him with a smile. And Cedric believed him, because if Harry wasn’t waking up early to meditate, then the dark circles under his eyes meant that he wasn’t sleeping well. Harry’s nightmares hadn’t been bad during the later part of the summer, when he was staying with Cedric and his family. But during the beginning of the summer, Harry had complained of nightmares every time Cedric visited him in Surrey.

 _It’s okay_ , Harry told him when Cedric apologize for being unable to meet him after class at the end of the day. _I’m busy this evening, as well_. Harry wasn’t busy with quidditch or school work like Cedric assumed, however. He was busy serving detention with Umbridge, who was _making Harry bleed_.

Cedric had been pacing near the lake for almost half an hour when Harry finally appeared.

“Cedric-” he began.

“I am so angry at you right now!” Cedric declared when Harry came into view.

Harry’s expression, which had been happy and relieved a moment before, abruptly fell. “You - you’re angry at me? Why?!”

“Because you’ve been lying to me!” Cedric snapped. “You’ve been lying about how you’ve been sleeping-”

“How I’ve been -- we haven’t spoken once about my sleep!”

“You’ve been lying about meditating-”

“I _have_ been meditating, though! Maybe not for as long as I was during the summer, but-”

“And you were lying to me about your detentions with Umbridge!”

At this, Harry’s face closed off entirely.

“Show me your hand,” Cedric demanded.

“It’s fine. I’m sure it will be healed in a couple of days, and - and how did you find out about my detentions? Oh - Oh, Merlin. You’re the reason Snape showed up in Umbridge’s classroom this evening, aren’t you? You told Snape-”

Taking several measured steps towards his boyfriend, Cedric repeated, “Show me your hand, Harry.”

With a put upon sigh, as if he was doing Cedric some sort of monumental favor, he presented his hand to Cedric, which had been hastily but expertly bandaged.

“Gotten good at cleaning yourself up, have you?” Cedric bitterly asked as he snatched Harry’s hand and began to quickly unwrap the bandage - the wound had still been bleeding when Harry applied the bandage. There were dots of red and-

 _I will not tell lies_ , Cedric read.

Sneering at the words, Cedric held his wand to the wound and recited one of the quick but powerful healing spells he’d learned while preparing for the third task the year before.

Cedric blinked when the spell had no effect on the wound.

“Murtlap is the only things which seems to work,” Harry told him.

“That’s because some of the oils produced by Murtlap are dark,” Cedric numbly replied. “The oils are so minimal that they don’t usually react to or effect other magic, unless the magic is also dark.”

“What?” Harry asked, his eyes wide.

“Harry, this injury can’t be healed by normal magic. It’s going to result in a curse scar.”

At this, Harry’s eyes grew wide and horrified. “But… But it’s not like she was trying to kill me!”

“No. She was was just trying to cause you extreme emotional and physical distress for hours at a time while using some form of blood magic to do it,” Cedric intoned.

Harry blinked at him for several moments longer, and then his face crumpled.

Cedric immediately pulled Harry into a tight hug.

“It’s going to be okay,” Cedric told him. Harry wasn’t crying, but he was shaking horribly. “I won’t let anyone do anything like this to you ever again. But Harry, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me when you need help. Why didn’t you tell me about your detentions?”

“I don’t - I don’t know,” he muttered against Cedric’s chest. “You’re so busy with school, and quidditch, and you’re headboy-”

“So you think I don’t have time for you anymore?”

“No! It’s nothing like that!”

“Then you didn’t think I could help, even if I knew? Like how your friends knew and couldn’t do anything to make Umbridge stop?”

“No,” Harry said with a frustrated sigh, abruptly pulling away from Cedric.

“Then why? Why didn’t you tell me about the detentions, or your meditation, or your lack of sleep-”

“I don’t know!” Harry cried, now yelling.

Cedric took a deep breath in an attempt to reign himself in.

“Okay,” he finally said after several long breaths. “Okay. Harry, come on. We’re going to go meditate now.”

Harry sounded like a soiled child when he snapped, “I don’t want to meditate!”

“I don’t care,” Cedric snidely replied. “You’re doing it anyway. Come on.”

Harry grumbled and grouched as Cedric led him to a comfortable looking patch of grass and made him sit. He was agitated for the first fifteen minutes or so, fidgeting constantly. After he began regulating his breathing, however, Harry calmed considerably, and he seemed quite content to sit and study the grounds as the sun set.

It had been almost an hour, and the day’s light had almost completely faded from the sky when Cedric was broken out of his own internal contemplation when Harry suddenly sighed and slouched against Cedric’s side.

“This is really nice,” Harry hummed. “I’ve never actually watched a sunset before. I always thought that doing it with someone would feel… stupid and soppy. But this is nice.”

“You’re supposed to be meditating,” Cedric reminded him.

“I _was_ meditating, you jerk,” Harry told him, the insult lacking in any real exasperation whatsoever. Harry even chuckled a bit as he settled more firmly against Cedric’s side.

“I’m getting really worried about you, Harry,” Cedric revealed.

Instead of becoming indigent or combative, as had become Harry’s custom whenever anyone expressed their concern towards him, Harry’s brow furrowed and he asked, “Why?”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Umbridge and her detentions?” Cedric once again asked.

With a sigh, Harry said, “It seems stupid now. I mean, you’re brilliant. Of course you would come up with a way to make her stop without getting yourself in trouble, or raising any suspicion towards you at all. At the time, the detentions seemed like they weren’t that bad, you know? Enduring that quill was nothing like enduring the cruciatus curse. But… I didn’t think about how it could really be affecting me, and I didn’t think you’d be concerned… I thought I could take care of it myself without anyone else having to worry or get involved.”

“This right here is why I’m worried about you, Harry,” Cedric informed him. “You only seem yourself after you meditate, and you don’t meditate unless I harass you into doing it. And when you don’t, you get moody, you stop talking to me, and you stark making strange decisions.”

Harry was quiet for several long moments, breathing quietly. Then, he told Cedric, “I’ve been having dreams -- the same dream over and over, about a hallway and a door. I’ve been having it for weeks, and it wasn’t until I was at the Ministry for my trial when I realized what it was - I’ve been dreaming about the door leading to the Department of Mysteries. And I’ve been getting flashes of… emotion, or something. I think they’re from Voldemort. I was afraid that if I told you about them, you’d do something to make them stop. But if they stop, then he might do something that I could have prevented if only I had seen one of those flashes. And we don’t have any other way to figure out what he might be after-”

“Of course we do. There’s always another way, Harry. And you’re damn right I’d do something to cut off whatever… connection you have with Voldemort. Useful or not, there is no reason for you to be exposed to his thoughts or emotions, Harry. His mind is toxic.”

“But-”

“Harry, please. Trust me.”

“I do trust you, of course I do,” Harry grumbled.

“Then stop arguing with me about maintaining a connection with a wizard who is older than you, smarter than you, meaner than you, and crazier than you.”

Harry gave a put upon sigh but then muttered, “Fine.”

“Good,” Cedric told him, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulder and pulling him into his side so that Cedric could press a kiss to his forehead.


	21. Chapter 21

Blaise’s eyes briefly met Cedric’s from across the common room, so Cedric stood from his seat, idly wandered across the chamber, and passed next to the group of fifth and sixth year Slytherins who were openly chatting about the Dark Lord.

Cedric impolitely snorted when one of them excitedly declared how _powerful_ the man was.

“Do you have something to say, Diggory?” Millicent Bulstrode asked with a sniff.

“You know that Dumbledore and Potter’s insistence that Voldemort has returned is rubbish, right? I can understand the rest of the students getting caught up in their tripe, but I thought the Slytherins would be smarter than that.”

When Cedric spoke the Dark Lord’s name, every student within hearing distance flinched and fell silent, even those who’s conversation Cedric had just interrupted.

“Of _course_ the Dark Lord has returned,” Parkinson declared with a sneer after a long, quiet moment.

“Not according to the Ministry,” he reminded them.

With a mean laugh, Parkinson said, “I think we all know that the Ministry is _run_ by the Dark Lord’s supporters.”

“If that were true, then the Ministry wouldn’t spend so much time or energy kowtowing to Dumbledore,” Cedric replied. “Why do you lot even _like_ the idea of the Dark Lord regaining power? Some great wizard he was, getting destroyed by a _baby_.”

Blaise quietly chuckled. “Maybe the Dark Lord had some sort of horrible allergic reaction to baby drool.”

“Potter cooed him to death,” Cedric agreed.

“He should be called He-Who-Could-Not-Steal-Candy-From-A-Baby,” Maisie put in as she strolled by while making her way out of the girls dorms.

“He-Who-Only-Goes-After-Easy-Targets,” Blaise supplied.

Cedric was still chuckling when Malfoy incredulously asked, “Isn’t Potter your boyfriend?”

“For now,” Cedric replied with a predatory smirk. “Catch you later, Zabini.”

“Sure, Ced,” Blaise agreed as his dorm mates turned to look at him with narrowed eyes.

* * *

 

They were careful not to leave the Great Hall together after meals, and in the library, they made sure that the other students saw them in different areas before quietly sneaking off to what Weasley had dubbed their Bookish Base in the legal section.

Cedric was the first Slytherin there, and he was gratified to find that Granger had just finished helping Harry with his meditation.

“-easier every day,” Harry was explaining to the witch. “I think it helped that I started in a muggle park, then practiced in an area where there was some amount of magic in the nearby nature, and _then_ started practicing at Hogwarts. If I really, really concentrate, I can feel the magic in the air. There’s so much of it in and around the school, I probably wouldn’t have been able to focus on it at all if I’d started my meditations here.”

“But _how_ do you feel the magic?” Granger insisted, clearly frustrated. “Do you focus on a specific object or area? And how does that breathing technique help? There was nothing about it in the chapter I read!”

“I created the breathing technique for myself,” Harry explained to her. “It helps my mind from wandering too much. And there’s not… I don’t think there are _steps_ you can follow for detecting magic. Like… _focusing_ on something doesn’t actually help.”

“Magic moves,” Cedric said by way of announcing himself. “The text explains it in one of the latter chapters. It’s constantly ebbing and flowing and interacting with the energy around it. When we cast spells or brew potions, we’re… changing and directing the energy to move and act in specific ways. The first part of performing wandless magic is to feel energy which already exists in its natural state, before its been manipulated or altered in any way.”

“Hey, that actually makes sense,” Weasley announced from his seat. “It sounded like a bunch of voodoo when Harry tried to explain it.”

Granger gave a heavy sigh. “Ron, how many times do I have to explain? Voodoo isn’t a Muggle’s nonsensical attempt at magic. It’s a _religion_.”

“Well Harry’s been talking like a cult leader for the past half hour,” Weasley grumbled.

Settling into a chair next to Harry’s, Cedric explained, “Harry’s understanding of magic is intrinsic. He’s good at figuring it out for himself as long as he has a bit of guidance. Harry sounds like he’s speaking gibberish because he’s come to understand some of the ideas from the text on his own, rather than having to deconstruct all of the ideas and change common terms the author uses so that they make sense to him.”

“Your boyfriend is the most amazing person to ever exist,” Jack intoned as he let himself into the room through the tapestry. “We get it. You can stop rubbing it in our faces now.”

Cedric scowled at his friend, but Harry greeted Jack with a wide smile.

“Aren’t there supposed to be more of you?” Ron asked as Jack made himself comfortable in one of the plush chairs by the fire.

Cedric had long ago grown accustomed to Weasley’s attitude towards Slytherins, so he did little more than roll his eyes at the younger student’s rude question before telling him, “Yes. In fact, there will be so many of us that you Gryffindors will be outnumbered. We know better than to travel to secret meetings in large packs, however, so we’re staggering our entrances.”

Weasley snorted, but Jack told the Gryffindors, “We thought he was being a paranoid prat, as well. Up until we started acting out his grand plan and a bunch of our house mates started giving us sideways looks.”

“Grand plan?” Harry asked slowly.

“That’s right,” Cedric agreed. “My grand plan to become the next Dark Lord. Oh. By the way, Harry, I’m only dating you to figure out where Voldemort went wrong in his attempt to kill you, and then I’m going to display my superiority over him by completing the task which he couldn’t. By killing you.”

To this, Harry responded by blinking at Cedric, and then saying, “Hey, you said his name!”

“Ced’s been making us all practice,” Jack informed him. “We have to speak his name as a show of disregard for the Dark Lor - for Voldemort’s power.”

Weasley’s face had been growing redder and redder as the conversation continued, and he abruptly jumped out of his chair. “I won’t let you hurt Harry!”

“Sit down, Ron,” Harry commanded. “Cedric would never hurt me. Right, Ced?”

Sneering at Weasley, Cedric said, “Of course not. Not _really_. But if Harry’s in danger from Voldemort, what better way to hide him and keep him safe than by faking his death?”

“Fake his - but what about Harry’s education?!” Granger cried. “He’s safe here at Hogwarts! Dumbledore would never let anything happen while-

“For Merlin’s sake, Granger, calm down. I’m not saying we should stage a curse which makes him bleed out on the floor of the Great Hall tomorrow morning at breakfast. We’d only resort to actually going through with it if we absolutely had to. And in the meantime, it’s the excuse I’m giving my housemates for dating Harry.”

“Awww, you revealed your grand plan without us, didn’t you?” Maise asked as she made her way into the room, Zabini a couple of steps behind her.

With a frustrated huff, Granger said, “You can’t be serious, Cedric. That plan is extremely dangerous! It will make you a target of the Dark Lord and his followers!”

“And dating Harry Potter wouldn’t?” Zabini asked as he helped Maisie transfigure some chairs into a couple of long couches for additional seating.

“Naming yourself a Dark Lord, though?” Harry asked, setting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward to speak up. “If you didn’t want your housemates to know you were on my side, why not just declare for Voldemort or something?”

“Hey, yeah,” Jack suddenly asked as he straitened in his seat. “That would be far simpler. Declaring yourself the next Dark Lord is sure to get Voldemort’s attention, but he’ll always see you as an adversary of some kind, even if he tries to manipulate you into joining him.”

“We’re playing the _long game_ ,” Cedric impatiently sighed. “If this turns into all out war, people will have to choose sides on the battlefield, right? The side of light or the side of dark. Dumbledore or Voldemort. As things stand, those are the only options. And of _course_ people are going to choose the side which advocates practicing magic in the way they approve, regardless of who’s leading the charge.”

With a sharp intake of breath, Granger declared, “You intend to make Voldemort’s people fight for _you_.”

“Exactly,” Cedric said with a nod.

“I have arrived!” Elliott hooted as he came into the room. “The super exciting, super secret meeting may now begin!”

“Daphne’s not here yet,” Zabini argued.

“Cedric, how many people did you invite?” Granger asked.

“Only my inner circle. Daphne will be the last.”

“The last what?” the girl in question asked as she made her way into the library.

“The last person to learn that Cedric is far more despicable than any of us thought,” Maisie supplied. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all about it later. For now, I’m tired of talking about Cedric’s plotting. I want to hear what sort of plot the Gryffindors came up with.”

Cedric was curious, too. When he met Harry after lunch that afternoon, he hadn’t been surprised when the fifth year requested Cedric’s presence in the library that evening. Cedric _had_ been surprised when Harry had quickly added, “Bring your friends - _only_ people you trust, though.”

When Cedric and his friends looked to Harry, Granger said, “Go on, tell them.”

“Me?! It was your idea!” Harry immediately argued.

“People won’t be coming for me, though,” Granger argued. “They’ll expect to learn from _you_.”

With a long sigh, Harry seemed to accept his fate. Turning to the Slytherins, he announced, “Umbridge’s class is bollocks. Hermione wants _me_ to teach people Defense Against the Dark Arts. Like, a defense club.”

Cedric frowned at this idea, but from the way his own friends and housemates latched onto the idea, he knew he wouldn’t be able to dissuade the group from bringing the concept to fruition.

It didn’t help that the more encouragement Harry got, the bigger his smile became.


End file.
